The next few weeks passed in a blur for Alya. She found herself returning to Café Lumière more often than she ever expected, drawn to the comforting rhythm of Orlando's presence. They talked about everything and nothing, their conversations flowing easily, like they had known each other for years. It wasn't long before Alya realized that Orlando had a way of making her forget—forget the hurt, forget the pain of losing Evan.
But then, one evening, as she entered the café, she heard a name that froze her in place.
"Evan," someone said, and Alya's heart seemed to stop.
She turned around sharply, her eyes scanning the room. There, sitting at the bar, was Orlando, talking to a man she didn't recognize. But when Orlando said that name—Evan—it felt like a shock to her system.
She walked over to the bar, unable to stop herself.
"I'm sorry," she said, interrupting their conversation. "Did you just mention Evan?"
Orlando looked up at her, his brow furrowing slightly. "You know him?" he asked, surprised.
Alya swallowed hard. "He was... someone I knew," she said, her voice trembling.
The name hit her like a wave, pulling her under. She hadn't realized how much she still cared, how deeply she was still tied to the past. But there was something else now—something pulling her toward Orlando.
"You know him, don't you?" Orlando asked again, his voice softer now.
Alya nodded, her heart pounding. "Where is he? What happened to him?" she asked, unable to contain her curiosity anymore.
Orlando glanced at the man beside him before his gaze returned to Alya. "He disappeared, Alya. No one knows where he went."
Alya's breath caught in her chest. The question she had carried with her for five years was finally being answered. But it wasn't the answer she wanted. She had expected closure, but instead, she was left with even more questions.
"Why are you telling me this?" she asked, her voice shaking.
Orlando stood up, his expression soft but unreadable. "Because I think you deserve to know," he said quietly. "And maybe because... sometimes, the sound of someone's name is enough to bring the past back. But you have to decide if you're ready to let it go."
Alya felt the weight of his words settle on her shoulders. The past had come rushing back in an instant, but the future—her future—was still unwritten.
She looked at Orlando, her heart torn. There was something about him that was pulling her in, something that made her feel alive again. But could she really move on from Evan? Could she open her heart to someone new?