Jake was the only customer in the tiny shop, so when the bells chimed and a brunette breezed through the swinging door, he turned his head. His jaw dropped as his eyes landed on the woman’s, a bolt of recognition piercing his gut.
It had been more than two and a half years since they’d seen each other, that strange night at the club in West Palm Beach when she’d come on to him.
“Sisi?”
“Jake.” She pressed a palm to her chest, clearly as shocked as he was. He took in the sight of her: she wore fitted black jeans and a slouchy gray sweater, her long brown locks swept back. Her green eyes were clear and bright. She looked rested. And better than he remembered. He looked down at his sweatpants and threadbare T-shirt, realizing how exhausted and grubby he appeared in comparison.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“My ex lives a couple of blocks away,” Sisi explained. “I had a bunch of stuff there and finally went and picked it all up.” She gestured to the tote bag slung through her elbow.
“That’s always a joy.” Jake gave a tight smile.
The barista cleared her throat, annoyed at the holdup. “Sir? Anything else with your coffee and croissant?”
“Oh. Umm.” Jake turned back to Sisi, remembering his manners. “What can I get you?”
“Small skim latte,” she told the barista, stepping closer to him. He could smell her perfume, something floral and sharp. “Thanks, Jake.”
“Busy now?” he asked her, handing over his credit card. “Tompkins Square Park is just around the corner. It’s nice out. We could drink these. Catch up.” He wasn’t fully sure what he was doing; he only knew he’d rather die than go back to his apartment, where he could barely stand to exist without Molly. The whole place smelled sour and damp, like dirty laundry and two weeks’ worth of food-crusted dishes piled in the sink. Jake couldn’t spend another day there, cooped up with his thoughts.
“Sure,” she said. “Why not?”
They grabbed their coffees from the counter and walked back toward the park. Sisi smiled beside him, and it lit up her whole face. For the first time in months, Jake felt his loneliness subside.
His rekindling with Sisi wasn’t completely conscious—there wasn’t one particular moment when he decided he wanted her back. It happened naturally, a gradual descent into togetherness. What had occurred in West Palm Beach all those years earlier felt like a distant memory, an immature, drunken slip on her part that no longer seemed to weigh as much. Sisi was a breath of fresh air, and he was grateful to have her in his life again.
One Sunday morning, over a lazy brunch of bagels and mimosas at her apartment, she said something that caught him off guard.
“So this Molly girl,” she started, pouring more champagne into her glass. “Should we talk about it?”
The light, airy mood in the room shifted, and Jake felt a wave of darkness pass through him. Anguish. Regret. A pastiche of unsettled emotions. “There’s not much to say.”
“Come on, Jake.” Sisi twisted the glass stem of her flute. “‘Molly’s Song’ was like, the song of 2014. I know this girl was important to you. I’m no idiot.”
He dropped his shoulders slightly, leaning back into his chair. “Fine.” He sighed, knowing this was a topic he’d have to address with Sisi eventually. “Molly was important to me. But it’s over now.”
“How did it end?”
Jake frowned. He didn’t want to think of this part, let alone discuss it. “I don’t really know. I got back from tour to find she’d moved out of our apartment. She left me a note, and that was it.”
“That’s awful, Jake.” Sisi’s face fell. “Where is she now?”
“I have no idea. I haven’t heard from her since we broke up.” He glanced down at the half-eaten bagel on his plate, his appetite suddenly extinguished. “My relationship with Molly wasn’t always … healthy. A lot of it was my fault. I wasn’t a good partner to her.” He glanced up at Sisi, reaching across the table for her hand. “Let’s not talk about Molly anymore, okay? I’ve been really happy with you these last few weeks, Sees. The past is in the past. Let’s just focus on us.”
She smiled, seemingly pleased with his declaration. Jake hadn’t been lying, either—he was happy being back with Sisi. On their best days, it felt like destiny that they’d both ended up in that tiny East Village coffee shop on the same October morning. As the months passed, the fog of Jake’s depression continued to lift, until life grew clear again.