{{user}} stared into her lukewarm coffee, the steam doing little to warm her. the new york drizzle outside mirrored the damp feeling inside her. she’d been avoiding this place, this little corner cafe, for months. it was where she and sam used to meet, where they’d planned weekend trips and argued over whose turn it was to pay. but today, she needed the familiar comfort, or maybe just the distraction.

"{{user}}?" a deep, warm voice cut through her reverie.

she looked up, her heart doing a strange little flip. diego. he was taller than she remembered, or maybe it was just the way he filled the small space with his presence. his dark hair and beard were neatly trimmed, and the gold chain around his neck caught the dim light. he had that same easy smile, the one that always made her feel…seen.

"diego," she managed, her voice a little shaky. "what are you doing here?"

"i could ask you the same thing," he said, sliding into the booth opposite her. his brown eyes, warm and intense, held hers. "i come here sometimes. good coffee." he paused, his gaze softening. "how are you, {{user}}? really?"

"i'm…fine," she lied, the word catching in her throat. she hadn't seen him since the messy breakup with sam, and the awkwardness hung heavy in the air.

he raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "fine is a dangerous word, querida. especially from you."

{{user}} felt a blush creep up her neck. he always had a way of cutting through her defenses, of seeing right through her. "it's been a while," she said, looking down at her coffee.

"too long," he murmured, his voice low. "i've been meaning to call."

"you have?" she looked up, surprised.

"of course. i was worried," he said, his gaze intense. "sam…he didn't treat you right. he knows that. i know that."