Episode 2 : unfinished chapters

The scent of old paper and freshly brewed coffee filled the bookshop as Elena tried to lose herself in work. Stacking books, rearranging displays—anything to distract from the ghost of Daniel Whitmore lingering in her thoughts.

But distraction was a fragile thing, and it shattered the moment the bell above the door chimed again.

She knew before she even looked up.

Daniel.

This time, she didn’t let her guard slip. She kept her focus on the book she was holding, flipping a page she wasn’t really reading. “Didn’t find a coffee shop?”

“I did,” he said, leaning against the counter. “But they don’t have what I’m looking for.”

She exhaled through her nose, keeping her voice even. “And what exactly are you looking for?”

His gaze held hers, steady and unwavering. “Answers.”

Elena shut the book. Hard. “You don’t get to do this, Daniel. You don’t get to walk back into my life after years and act like I owe you a conversation.”

“I know,” he admitted. “But I’m asking anyway.”

She crossed her arms, trying to ignore the way her pulse betrayed her. “Why now? After all this time?”

A shadow passed over his expression, and for the first time, she saw something deeper than the confidence he always carried. Regret. Hesitation. Maybe even pain.

“My mom is sick,” he said finally.

The words hit harder than she expected. Mrs. Whitmore had been like a second mother to Elena growing up. Warm, kind, always baking something sweet whenever Daniel dragged her over to his house as kids.

“She asked me to come home,” he continued. “And… I guess I realized I should have come back a long time ago.”

Something in her chest tightened. She wanted to hold onto her anger, to remind herself that he had walked away, that she had spent years trying to forget him. But hearing about his mother changed things.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

He nodded, glancing away. “Yeah.”

Silence stretched between them again, but this time, it wasn’t just filled with old wounds—it was something heavier. The weight of the present.

“I didn’t mean to just leave you, Elena,” he said after a moment. “I thought—” He broke off, shaking his head. “I thought you’d be better off without me.”

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to keep her voice steady. “And what gave you the right to decide that for me?”

His jaw tensed. “I was messed up back then. I didn’t know how to stay without screwing everything up.”

She let out a bitter laugh. “Well, you still managed to screw everything up by leaving.”

He flinched, just slightly, but enough for her to see it.

For the first time since he walked in, she felt like she had some control. Like she wasn’t just the girl left behind—she was the one standing her ground.

“I don’t know why you’re really here, Daniel,” she said, voice firm. “But I can’t be the person who makes it easier for you to fix your past. I’m not a chapter you can just pick up where you left off.”

He held her gaze for a long moment, and then—slowly—he nodded.

“I get it,” he said.

And then, just as she thought he might walk away for good, he did something unexpected. He reached into his jacket, pulled out a small, weathered book, and placed it on the counter.

She frowned, looking down at it. A first edition of Wuthering Heights. The same book she had once told him she dreamed of owning.

“I saw this in a shop a while back,” he said. “And I thought of you.”

Elena stared at the book, at the familiar scrawl on the inside cover. To Elena—because some stories are never really over.

Her throat tightened, but before she could say anything, Daniel stepped back.

“I’ll see you around,” he murmured.

And then he was gone, leaving behind nothing but the weight of the past… and a book that might just be the start of something new.

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