Dale Cooper had met more people than he could ever remember and after years on the job, he thought nothing could really surprise him anymore.

That Friday morning, he followed his ritual to the letter: same drive, same café, same quiet pause before letting the day pull him back into its usual strangeness. The place was busier than usual, so he waited, watching the soft chaos of people and steam. Then, a voice called his name.

He turned and there she was.

His ex.

For a second, the air caught in his throat. He almost laughed at himself. Four years, and still, the sight of her could knock the wind out of him. She looked the same, maybe a little older, more tired around the eyes. But beautiful in that effortless, ordinary way that always disarmed him.

She didn’t seem to recognize him. Not really. Not right away.

“Hey,” he managed, forcing a smile that didn’t quite fit. “Didn’t expect to see you here. How’ve you been?”

She gave him that polite half-smile people use when they don’t want to be rude to strangers. Wrote something down on her notepad. “Coffee, right? Black?”

He nodded. “You remember.”

She didn’t answer. Just turned to go.

Cooper watched her walk away, his fingers curling around the table’s edge. Maybe he should’ve let it go. Four years was enough time to bury a hundred unfinished thoughts. But he couldn’t help himself.

“Hey,” he called softly. She turned, just a little. “You still keep that old record player? The one that skipped every third song?”

Her expression flickered barely a second, but enough for him to see that memory hadn’t disappeared. And in that moment, standing in the hum of the café, Dale Cooper realized he wasn’t over her not entirely. Maybe not at all. Maybe he never would be.