Episode 1 : the return

Elena Carter had always loved the quiet. The soft rustle of book pages, the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore, the gentle hum of an old record playing in the background. It was the kind of life she had carefully crafted—predictable, peaceful, and far from the messiness of emotions she’d once known too well.

The bell above the door chimed, signaling a customer. She glanced up from her book, ready with her usual polite smile, but the moment her eyes met his, the world tilted.

Daniel Whitmore.

The book slipped from her hands, landing on the wooden floor with a soft thud.

For a second, neither of them spoke. It was as if time had stretched, pulling her back to a past she had spent years trying to forget. He stood there, taller than she remembered, his sun-kissed skin hinting at years spent chasing adventures far from Everbrook. His dark hair was a little longer, tousled in that effortlessly messy way, and his ocean-blue eyes still held the same fire—intense, unreadable, and dangerous.

“Elena,” he said, his voice smooth yet laced with something she couldn’t quite place.

She exhaled slowly, steadying herself. “Daniel.”

A slow, knowing smile tugged at his lips. “You still work here.”

Her spine stiffened. “I own the place now.”

His eyes flickered with something—pride, surprise, maybe regret. “I always knew you would.”

She bent down to pick up the fallen book, using the movement to compose herself. When she straightened, he was still watching her, as if trying to read between the lines of a book only he remembered.

“What are you doing here?” she finally asked, her tone clipped.

His smile faltered, just for a second, before he slipped his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. “Came back to town for a while.”

“For a while,” she echoed. “And then you’ll leave again?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know.”

Her heart clenched, but she forced herself to remain indifferent. “Well, welcome back. There’s a great coffee shop down the street. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Still as stubborn as ever.”

“Still as reckless as ever?” she shot back.

He smirked. “Guess some things don’t change.”

Silence stretched between them again, thick with things unsaid. Memories threatened to resurface—the way he used to hold her at midnight, the whispered promises, the warmth of his lips against her forehead. And then the crushing emptiness when he left.

“I should get back to work,” she said, breaking the moment before it swallowed her whole.

He nodded but didn’t move. Instead, he studied her, like he was memorizing every detail. “Elena…”

Something in his tone made her look up.

“I never meant to hurt you,” he said softly.

Her breath caught. For a moment, just a moment, she wanted to believe him. But wounds like hers didn’t heal with words alone.

“Too late for that, isn’t it?” she murmured, turning away.

And as she walked toward the back of the shop, she felt his gaze linger—like a whisper of the past refusing to fade.

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