Page 83 of The Maine Event

“Why not?” I ask myself, a smile tugging at my lips. “A little caffeine never hurt anyone.”

The bell above the café door jingles as I step inside, the scent of roasted beans and warm pastries wrapping around me like a hug. Sunlight streams through the wide front windows, casting golden patterns on the wooden floors. A low hum of conversation and clinking spoons fills the space, underscored by the hiss of steaming milk from behind the counter.

The barista greets me with an easy smile, and I order a large cappuccino—extra foam—and a chocolate croissant, telling myself I’ve earned both. As I wait, I scan the room, my gaze lazily drifting past students glued to their laptops, parents juggling pushchairs and caffeine, and couples trading quiet laughter across tiny tables.

And then, like a jolt of color in a sepia-toned photo, I see her.

Blonde ponytail. Familiar stride. That unmistakable bounce in her step.

Chloe.

She’s surrounded by friends, mid-laugh, utterly at ease—and for a moment, the world just… stops. Everything narrows into soft focus, everything else blurring at the edges. There’s a split second when I don’t know what to do. Whether to call out, or disappear before she sees me.

Then her gaze lifts. Finds mine.

Time suspends. Just for a beat.

And then, her face lights up—pure sunshine breaking through cloud cover. No hesitation. No resentment. Just joy.

My coffee is forgotten. I push through the crowd, heart thudding, as Chloe breaks from her group and runs.

Chloe barrels into my arms, hugging me so tightly it knocks the breath out of me—and I let her. I let her squeeze every ounce of guilt and regret out of my lungs, because it feels just so damn good.

“Rachel!” she says into my shoulder. “I can’t believe it’s really you!”

I hold her just as fiercely, my arms wrapping around her smaller frame. She still smells like strawberries and shampoo. For a moment, neither of us says anything. There’s no need. The hug says it all.

Eventually, she pulls back, still clutching my arms, eyes searching my face with an intensity that startles me. “I was so mad when you left,” she says honestly. “And then I was sad. But now I’m just… happy.”

Tears threaten. I blink them back with a shaky smile. “I missed you too. So much more than I realized.”

She grins. “You look really good, by the way. Chic, but a little rumpled. Very fashion-editor-on-her-day-off.”

I laugh. “You’re too kind. I’ve been living out of a suitcase.”

“Still,” she says, tugging me a little closer, “you’re here. That’s what matters.”

We stand like that for a moment longer, until Chloe finally bounces on her toes with excitement. “Oh! I forgot to tell you—I won my heat! I’m through to the State finals!”

“What?” My mouth drops open. “Chloe, that’s incredible! I’m so proud of you.”

“It’s during Thanksgiving break. Two weeks. You have to come. Please?”

My smile falters for a split second. Chicago looms in the back of my mind—the condo, my things, the inevitable logistics of relocation—but her hopeful eyes pull me back into the present.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I say, and mean it.

She lets out a delighted squeal, twirling once in the middle of the café like she’s made of joy. Then she stops abruptly, a new idea blooming behind her eyes. “Actually… there’s something else.”

“Oh?” I brace myself.

“Dad’s recording an episode of his new show tomorrow,” she reveals, a mischievous glint in her eye. “They film the apartment scenes in front of a live studio audience. You should come! It would be such a fun surprise for him.”

The suggestion hangs between us.

It’s a perfectly Chloe idea—earnest, hopeful, a little chaotic.

I’m a little thrown at the mention of Dan, and I feel a flutter of nerves in my stomach. The thought of seeing him again is both thrilling and terrifying.

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