Cynthia tugged her scarf tighter as she pushed open the door of the cafe, the cold biting at her cheeks and fingertips even beneath layers of wool and leather. A gust of warmth rushed to greet her, carrying with it the earthy scent of coffee beans and the faint crackle of burning wood from the fireplace. She had always loved this place, with its old-world charm—walls adorned with antique hunting trophies and dark, weathered wood that made the room feel like stepping into another era.

Yet, today, the comfort of the cafe felt different. More like a stage set for an uncomfortable scene she wished she could avoid.

Her eyes swept the room, and there he was—James, sitting by the fireplace, his long legs crossed at the ankles, fingers wrapped around a mug. He looked older than she remembered, more settled somehow, as if life had started to shape him into someone new, but his eyes… those were the same. A little too hopeful. Her heart twinged.

This is going to hurt him she thought, fingers brushing the engagement ring hidden beneath her glove. How could she tell him? It wasn’t just about the words; it was about letting go of the part of her that once belonged to him, a part that still stirred in her when she thought of the nights they stayed up late talking, or the afternoons they spent wandering the campus, hand in hand.

She inhaled deeply, steadying herself, and made her way toward him, her boots clicking against the worn wooden floor. James looked up as she approached, a smile breaking across his face, one that made her chest tighten.

“Cynthia.” He stood, awkward for a moment before he leaned in for a quick hug. She caught the scent of his cologne—same as always. It triggered a flood of memories, some of them bittersweet, others like a wound she hadn’t realized hadn’t fully healed.

“James,” she smiled warmly, though the weight of what she had to say lingered at the back of her throat like a stone. “It’s been a while.”

He nodded, gesturing to the seat across from him. “Yeah, too long. You look… great.” He fumbled a little, clearly trying to sound casual. “I’m glad you came.”

She eased into the chair, grateful for the fireplace’s warmth on her back. As she pulled off her gloves, the gold band of her engagement ring flashed for a second before she quickly slid her hands under the table.

“I’m glad we’re doing this,” she said softly. Just rip the bandage off, tell him. But instead, she hesitated, staring into the fire.

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James cleared his throat, as if readying himself. “You know, I’ve been thinking a lot about you. About us. I, uh… I don’t know, I feel like maybe we ended things too fast back then.”

Cynthia’s heart sank. The hope in his voice, the same hope she used to cling to, now felt like a burden. She kept her gaze on the flames. “James…”

“I’m not saying we should just pick up where we left off,” he continued quickly, his voice softening as if he were pleading. “I just… I don’t know. I still care about you, and I was wondering if maybe—”

“I’m engaged.”

The words came out bluntly, more sharply than she intended. Silence fell between them, the only sound the crackling of the fire and the murmur of distant conversations. James blinked, his smile faltering. He sat back, his hand gripping the edge of the table as if steadying himself.

“Engaged,” he repeated, as if he hadn’t quite heard her the first time. His eyes dropped to her hands where her ring was now clearly visible, glinting in the firelight.

“I… didn’t know how to tell you,” Cynthia murmured. “I wasn’t sure how you’d take it. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

James’s gaze lingered on the ring for a moment longer before he exhaled, long and slow. He nodded, looking out the window where snow had begun to fall in lazy flakes, as if trying to gather his thoughts. “No, it’s fine. I mean, I kind of knew. I guess… I was just hoping.”

His words hung heavy in the air, and Cynthia could see the tension in his jaw, the quiet acceptance slowly dawning on his face. She hated that look, hated that she was the cause of it.

“I’m really happy for you,” James added, but the strain in his voice made her heart ache. “I mean it. I just… wish things had turned out differently.”

Cynthia lowered her eyes, a rush of regret tightening in her chest. Part of her had moved on, was excited for the future with her fiancé, but sitting across from James now, in this familiar cafe that held so many memories, she couldn’t help but wonder what might have been. For a brief, fleeting moment, she remembered what it was like to love him—really love him, not just as a friend. There had been something real between them once, something strong enough that even now, it tugged at her.

“I wish that too,” she whispered, barely audible over the crackle of the fire.

James glanced back at her, searching her face as if he were trying to find something—some sign that she might still feel the same way. But he knew better. He could see it in her eyes, the way they softened with nostalgia but held none of the hope he’d been clinging to.

“I guess we weren’t meant to be,” he said, voice low, his breath fogging slightly in the cold air drifting in from the door. “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t love you.”

Her throat tightened, and she looked away, blinking back the sting of tears she hadn’t expected. “I loved you too, James. I really did.”

And in that moment, they both knew it was true—once, they had been everything to each other. But time, circumstance, and choices had drawn them apart. There was no going back now.

The fire crackled on, the warmth contrasting the chill that had settled between them. Outside, the snow fell steadily, blanketing the world in white as if offering a fresh start, but for them, it was the quiet closing of a chapter.

- Cherish them now, and let not winter in thine heart