The silence, once broken, crept back in, filling the space with an even heavier weight than before.Emily shifted uneasily in her seat, her gaze flickering around the room, looking for anything that could distract her from the man sitting across from her. She could feel the weight of his gaze, the intensity of it making her heart race and her thoughts scatter. The low murmur of conversations and the clinking of mugs faded into a distant hum, leaving only the uncomfortable silence between them.
Unable to bear the tension, she mumbled softly to herself, almost hoping he wouldn't hear, "Where could she be?"
David's lips curved into a small, amused smile as he leaned back, his eyes twinkling with something she couldn't quite place. He raised an eyebrow, letting a beat of silence pass before he replied, "don't tell me you're waiting for her?." He asked studying her for a moment, the smile deepening as he continued, "You clearly know she already left?"
Caught off guard, Emily stammered, cheeks flushing. "Uh.....um, yeah," she answered, feeling a little embarrassed and incredibly confused.
David watched her closely, an amused glint in his eye. "You do realize she left giving us space to talk, right?" His tone was casual, but there was a knowing look on his face that made Emily's heart skip.
"What… what do you mean?" she managed, her voice laced with confusion.
He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You're in over your head, aren't you?" His voice was gentle, teasing, but with a hint of genuine curiosity that made her squirm.
Emily looked down, fingers twisting together as she tried to think of something to say, something that wouldn't make her sound as lost as she felt. "I just… I thought meeting you might… help," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. The words hung in the air, raw and vulnerable.
David's gaze softened, and he leaned in, his eyes fixed on her with an intensity that made her heart pound. "Help with what?"
She hesitated, the pain she'd been trying to bury bubbling to the surface. "My boyfriend broke up with me," she admitted, her voice cracking slightly. She hadn't meant to share that so quickly, especially with a stranger. But something about the way he looked at her, his steady presence, made it easier to let her guard down. "He… he said I was too much. That I needed to change."
David's expression didn't waver. He simply sat there, listening, giving her space to continue. It was strange, but his silence felt comforting, like he was willing to hear everything without judgment.
"It just blindsided me," she continued, her voice trembling. "I thought we were happy. I thought he loved me." Her voice cracked again, and she bit her lip, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. But one slipped down her cheek, followed by another, and she quickly wiped them away, feeling embarrassed.
David stayed quiet, his gaze steady, taking in her words as if he understood every bit of her pain.
"Mrs. Rachel… she was there for me through all of it," Emily said, her voice thick with emotion. "When it felt like the world was caving in, she was the one who kept me grounded. She told me she would introduce me to you, maybe that it might… distract me." She let out a shaky laugh, feeling vulnerable in a way that made her want to curl up and hide, yet oddly safe in his presence.
David's face softened even more, and he nodded slowly, a subtle acknowledgment that told her he understood without needing to say a word.
Emily drew a shaky breath, pressing forward, the words spilling out before she could stop them. "I thought I could handle it. I thought I'd be fine. But it hurts so much." Her voice wavered, and more tears slipped down her cheeks. She wiped them away hastily, feeling the weight of her vulnerability pressing down on her.
David leaned forward slightly, his eyes intense, as if he was trying to reach through her pain and offer something solid to hold onto. "Emily," he said softly, his voice steady, grounding. "He's an idiot. Any guy who can't see how incredible you are… he doesn't deserve you."
A surprised laugh bubbled up, part disbelief, part gratitude. She shook her head, looking down. "You think I'm… incredible?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper, as if afraid of his answer.
"Yes," he replied, his tone unwavering, his gaze filled with a quiet certainty that made her heart ache. "And anyone who can't see that is blind."
She felt another tear slip down her cheek, but this time, she didn't wipe it away. "If that's true… then why did he leave me?" The question hung in the air, filled with all the pain and confusion she'd been carrying, a raw wound she'd been trying to hide.
David didn't answer right away. Instead, he held her gaze, his eyes reflecting a depth of understanding that made her feel both exposed and comforted.
The silence between them stretched, heavy yet oddly soothing, like he was offering her a space to let the hurt out without judgment. She took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his attention, the steady reassurance of his presence.
"I know it's stupid," she murmured, trying to force a small smile. "I shouldn't be crying over him."
"It's not stupid," David said quietly, his voice firm but gentle. "It's not stupid to care. It's what makes you… you."
The words struck her, soft but powerful, breaking through the last of her defenses. She let out a shaky breath, her shoulders slumping as she finally let herself feel the depth of her heartache.
"Thank you," she whispered, not sure why she felt the need to say it, but somehow, it felt right. His words, his presence—they'd reached a part of her that had felt numb for so long.
David's lips curved into a gentle smile, and he nodded, a silent acknowledgment that told her he understood, that she didn't need to explain anything further.
She looked down, collecting her thoughts, trying to find a way to ground herself. "I thought meeting you would… distract me, help me forget," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "But it doesn't feel that simple."
David leaned back slightly, giving her space, yet his gaze remained steady.
A hesitant smile crept onto her face, the weight on her chest lifting just a little. The pain was still there, a dull ache that throbbed with every heartbeat, but for the first time, it didn't feel as suffocating. She met his gaze, feeling a spark of something she hadn't felt in a long time—hope.
"Maybe one day, it won't hurt as much," she murmured, more to herself than to him, a quiet promise she hoped to keep. "Maybe one day, I'll be okay."
David nodded, his gaze steady and unwavering, carrying a certainty that seemed to seep into her bones, offering a sense of calm she hadn't realized she'd been searching for. "You will be," he replied softly, his voice filled with a quiet strength that made her believe him, if only for a moment.