The city felt unusually quiet that afternoon — as if the world itself had exhaled and gone still. Once Nadine disappeared into the crowd, Curtis stood frozen on the sidewalk, his hands still in his pockets, his heart pounding with a strange unease.
He couldn't explain it, but he felt… caught. Like someone had seen something they weren't supposed to. He turned, scanning the street, but all he saw were faceless strangers rushing past, umbrellas opening as a faint drizzle began to fall.
The kiss replayed in his head — brief, unexpected, and wrong. Nadine had always been kind, intelligent, the sort of woman people expected him to end up with. So why did it feel like something hollow just echoed inside him?
He rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a frustrated breath.There was only one person he wanted to see right now — one smile that could quiet the noise in his chest.
Allie.
Before he could stop himself, his feet were already moving, carrying him toward Coppa.When he pushed open the café door, the familiar chime of the bell rang through the air. The smell of roasted beans and vanilla hit him like nostalgia, soft and bittersweet.But Allie wasn't there.
Zack was off for the day, and the shop owner — a kind woman with warm eyes and silver hair — greeted him with a polite nod.
Curtis ordered his usual, hoping maybe if he sat at his old corner table, she might magically appear. But every cup of coffee only made the ache sharper. Every quiet laugh from a nearby table reminded him of her voice.
Finally, he approached the counter, clearing his throat."Excuse me," he said gently, "do you happen to know if Allie still works here?"
The woman looked up from the register. "Oh, Allie? She resigned last week."His heart dropped. "She did?"
"Yes. Such a shame, too. She was one of our best." The woman smiled wistfully. "Always so bright. Her resignation came out of nowhere — no warning at all. We were all surprised."
Curtis hesitated, trying to sound casual. "Did she… happen to mention where she was going next? Maybe a new job?"
The owner shook her head. "No idea, sweetheart. She just said she needed to move on. You might want to try the bar she used to work at. Lila's, I think?"
He nodded, thanked her, and stepped outside — his chest heavy, the drizzle now turning into steady rain.
That night, he texted Jonah:
Curtis: Need your help. It's about Allie.
Jonah: Finally. Thought you'd never ask. Where do we start?
The next evening, they went to Lila's. The bar was dim and loud — neon lights reflecting off glasses, the hum of laughter and music blending into a low rhythm. Curtis scanned the crowd anxiously.
No sign of her.
Dex, the bartender, recognized him immediately. "Hey, man. You're Allie's friend, right? Haven't seen her in a while. She quit a few days ago — didn't even say goodbye."
Jonah leaned in beside him, smirking lightly. "Curtis, you noticing a pattern here? They all say the same thing. Maybe she told them not to tell you."
Curtis frowned, jaw tightening. "Maybe. But I can't just stop."
Jonah sighed, seeing the quiet desperation in his friend's eyes."Alright, then. We'll keep looking."
They left the bar empty-handed, the streets glowing wet with city lights. The rain had stopped, but it still clung to the air — heavy and electric.
Allie, meanwhile, stayed hidden away at Clarisse's apartment. She didn't want her family to see her like this — broken, lost, miserable.
For days, she couldn't sleep. She replayed that kiss in front of the office building until it burned behind her eyelids. She'd finally accepted what she'd been avoiding all along — it was over.
"Clarisse," she said one morning, her voice small, "I'm leaving."
Clarisse looked up from her coffee. "Leaving where?"
"Japan. I took the offer." Her tone was steady, but her hands trembled.
Clarisse set her cup down. "Are you sure about this?"
"Yes." Allie smiled weakly. "It's time. I need to start over — build something just for me this time."
Clarisse's eyes softened. "Then I'm proud of you, Al. But… you'll call, right?"
Allie nodded. "Always."
That night, she returned home and shared the news. Her mom cried, not out of sadness, but pride. Raffi hugged her tight, telling her how brave she was.
Her mom, however, asked one thing: "Were you able to fix things with Curtis?"
Allie froze. Then forced a smile. "Yes, Mom. We're okay now."It wasn't the truth, but it was the kindness her mother deserved.
The day of her flight came too soon. The morning light painted her room in gold, and the sound of distant traffic filled the silence. Her suitcase stood by the door — zipped, ready.
Allie stared at herself in the mirror. Her reflection looked calm, but her heart was anything but.
She whispered to herself, "You're doing the right thing. It's time."
Still, as she closed the door behind her, she couldn't shake the hollow feeling that she was leaving a piece of herself behind.
Love had hurt her deeply, but this time, she promised herself: she'd never lose herself again.
At the airport, she stood in line, ticket in hand, a quiet ache beneath her ribs. She smiled through her tears as she texted Clarisse:
Allie: Boarding now. Thank you for everything.
Clarisse: Go get your new life, girl. You deserve it. 💛
And with that, she stepped into a new world — carrying both her pain and her hope in equal measure.
Curtis, meanwhile, was unraveling in silence.
He hadn't responded to Nadine's texts or calls. He hadn't thought about that kiss once since it happened. His thoughts were consumed by one thing: finding Allie.
Everywhere he looked, he saw her — in the coffee steam at Coppa, in the reflection of passing windows, in every familiar street corner. His apartment felt foreign now, empty but full of memories.
He eventually started crashing at Jonah's just to escape the ghost of her presence.
"Dude," Jonah said one night, half-amused, half-worried, "you've been checking Coppa and Lila's like a lost puppy. She's not coming back there. Maybe you should try other places you went together."
Curtis's eyes suddenly lit up. "That's it. The places."
He spent the next few days retracing every step — the park where they once shared pastries, the senior center they volunteered at, even the little bookstore she loved.
At the senior center, he asked one of the nurses about her. "She was here a few days ago," the nurse said kindly. "Dropped off some books for the residents. Sweet girl. Haven't seen her since."
That familiar ache returned. Another closed door.
The last place left on his list was the art gallery — Clarisse's domain. He hesitated, knowing she wasn't exactly his biggest fan.
Jonah came up with the idea: he'd pretend to be a potential client, and Curtis would tag along.
The plan worked long enough for them to corner Clarisse by the reception desk.
She crossed her arms. "You're persistent, I'll give you that."
"Please," Curtis said quietly. "I just need to know if she's okay."
Clarisse's expression softened for a moment, then hardened again."She's fine. And no — I'm not telling you where she is."
Curtis exhaled slowly, disappointment heavy in his chest.
As he turned to leave, Clarisse added, her voice firm but not unkind,"Maybe you can't find her because she doesn't want to be found."
That stopped him cold.
The words echoed in his mind long after he and Jonah left the gallery. Maybe she was right. Maybe chasing her was selfish.
That night, Jonah took him for a drink. They sat in a quiet corner of a dim whiskey bar, two glasses of old fashioned between them.
Jonah leaned back and said softly, "You know, I think you actually fell for her, man. I've never seen you like this."
Curtis stared into his glass. "I don't even know what this is. It's not just love… it's more. Like she changed something in me — and then took it with her."
Jonah nodded. "Then let her. If she's meant to come back, she will."
Curtis smiled faintly and raised his glass. "To timing, I guess."
"To timing," Jonah echoed.
The next morning, sunlight slipped through the blinds, piercing through the hangover haze. Curtis groaned and sat up, rubbing his temples. His phone was buzzing with missed calls and unread messages.
He moved to the kitchen, opening the fridge. It looked different — fuller, organized, like someone had cared enough to make it feel like home. He smiled faintly.
Every corner of the apartment felt changed, softer somehow. Like Allie's presence had seeped into the walls and refused to leave.
His phone buzzed again. A message from Nadine:
Nadine: Hey Harper! Checking in. You still coming to work? Got your coffee — it's cold now, but I can warm it up or grab you another one ☕️
Curtis stared at the message for a long time. Then, finally, he smiled — not out of joy, but acceptance.
Curtis: Yeah. I'll be there.
He put the phone down, straightened his tie, and caught his reflection in the mirror.
The man looking back wasn't the same one who once lived by structure and control.He looked… human. Changed.
He grabbed his coat, stepped outside, and let the city swallow him whole —two people who had once shared everything, now walking the same world as strangers.