Chapter 12: Avyanna's Hesitation

After sealing the deal, Ruth led Avyanna to a nearby café nestled along a quiet street corner. The warm scent of roasted coffee beans and freshly baked pastries wafted through the air as the door chimed softly behind them. It was a cozy little place, filled with soft lighting and scattered wooden tables that gave it a homey atmosphere. The kind of place you could settle into and forget the world outside.

As she stepped inside, Avyanna’s eyes instinctively scanned the room, her gaze flicking from table to table, carefully searching for a familiar face among the patrons. There was a flicker of hope in her expression—subtle, yet visible. But as seconds passed and she found no sign of the certain someone she had hoped to see, a small sigh escaped her lips. Disappointment settled into her features, though she tried to mask it behind a neutral expression.

Ruth noticed immediately. She could always tell when something was off with Avyanna, even when her friend tried to hide it.

“Who are you looking for?” Ruth asked, one eyebrow raised with casual curiosity.

Avyanna hesitated for a beat, then shook her head lightly. “No one,” she said a little too quickly, her tone dismissive—but Ruth wasn’t convinced. Not by a long shot.

Before Ruth could probe further, a waitress approached their table with a polite smile, breaking the moment.

“What’s your order, miss?” she asked Avyanna, holding out a menu and pointing toward a laminated picture of the café’s popular items.

Avyanna leaned over slightly, studying the photos on the menu. “I’ll have this one,” she said, pointing at a vanilla iced latte paired with a cinnamon roll. Ruth made her selection as well, and the waitress nodded before retreating to prepare their orders.

Once they were seated near the window, Ruth gave Avyanna a sideways glance. The younger woman was staring out the window, her fingers gently tapping against the table’s edge as if she were lost in thought.

“You know,” Ruth began softly, her voice calm but insistent, “you can talk to me, right? You don’t always have to keep everything bottled up.”

Avyanna’s eyes flickered toward her, a conflicted look passing over her face. For a moment, she looked like she might deflect again—but something about Ruth’s tone, or perhaps the comforting quiet of the café, made her hesitate.

“It’s not that easy,” Avyanna said, her voice low, almost as if confessing a secret. “Letting my guard down... it scares me.”

Ruth leaned back in her chair, giving Avyanna the space she needed to continue. There was no rush, no pressure. She simply waited.

“I’ve spent so long keeping myself guarded,” Avyanna continued, her voice barely above a whisper, “always calculating who I can trust, what I should say, what I should feel.” She paused, swallowing before going on, her words trembling slightly. “And every time I let someone in, it feels like I’m giving them the power to hurt me.”

Ruth nodded slowly, her gaze steady and understanding. She wasn’t surprised by Avyanna’s confession. It was the unspoken truth of her life, the armor she had built over years of pain.

“But sometimes,” Ruth said gently, her voice tender yet firm, “that’s how we find the ones who are worth keeping around. The ones who won’t use that power to break us, but to hold us when we’re falling apart.”

Avyanna didn’t respond right away. She stared at the swirling pattern in her drink as the waitress returned with their orders, the sound of plates and cups breaking through the silence between them. The silence wasn’t awkward; it was thoughtful, as if both women were processing what had been shared.

Maybe Ruth was right. But Avyanna wasn’t sure if she was ready to take that risk again. Not yet. The fear of opening herself up, of being vulnerable, always lingered in her mind like a heavy weight. The scars from past betrayals weren’t something she could easily forget, and the thought of letting someone in again felt like stepping into unknown territory—treacherous, unfamiliar, and too far outside her comfort zone.

Ruth, sensing her hesitation, stirred her drink thoughtfully, then shot Avyanna a sidelong glance. “Have you talked to them?” she asked, referring to Monica and Huan-Yue, her voice soft but carrying a weight of its own.

Avyanna let out a slow breath, her fingers absently tracing the rim of her cup. She didn’t answer right away, as though weighing the truth against the fear of it spilling out. Her gaze shifted downward, avoiding Ruth’s knowing eyes.

“I spoke to Monica last night,” she admitted quietly, her voice barely audible. “But… I didn’t tell her everything. Not what I really feel.” She paused, the admission stinging her throat as she thought about the conversation. It hadn’t gone the way she’d hoped. She had almost told Monica everything—her fear, her hesitation, how much she needed to just say the words and be understood—but she had stopped herself, closing the door just as it was about to open. "I just... couldn't."

Ruth didn’t say anything immediately, just waited, giving Avyanna the space to gather her thoughts.

“And Huan-Yue?” Ruth asked softly, as if to gently remind her of the other person who had a claim on her heart, though in a different way.

Avyanna shook her head, her lips pressed tight. “She doesn’t know anything. She probably thinks I’m just... distant.” She let out a small sigh. “I want to talk to her, too. I do. But I’m not sure I can. Not with everything that’s hanging over me.”

Her eyes clouded as she thought of all the tangled emotions, the mess of uncertainty. Could she be honest with her? Could she allow herself to be honest with anyone?

Before Ruth could respond, their orders were set down on the table, the sound of the plates and cups breaking through the thick silence between them.

But as the waitress set the drinks in front of them, Avyanna’s heart skipped a beat as she realized that the waitress who asks for their order is not the same as the one who serves them.Standing beside the table, as if materializing out of nowhere, was Kairus. His presence felt like a quiet storm—sudden, overwhelming, and undeniable.

“Here’s your order,” Kairus said, his voice smooth and calm, but with an undertone of concern that Avyanna couldn’t quite place.

As he set the drinks down, their eyes met briefly, and that brief exchange caused a warmth to bloom on Avyanna’s face. The heat rose to her cheeks like a wave, and she instantly felt her entire body flush. It wasn’t just the unexpectedness of his presence—it was the way he looked at her, the way his mere proximity made her heart race and her thoughts scatter.

Ruth, who had been watching her closely, didn’t miss the sudden change in Avyanna’s expression. She blinked at her friend, noticing how her skin had turned an embarrassing shade of red.

“Avyanna!” Ruth exclaimed, her voice too loud for the quiet café. “You look so red—are you okay?”

The volume of Ruth’s voice seemed to break the tension, drawing Kairus’s attention. He stepped closer, his brows furrowing in concern. He reached toward Avyanna with a gesture that was almost too quick, but gentle—placing his hand on her forehead. The warmth of his palm sent a jolt through her, and she stiffened, momentarily caught off guard. She could feel the warmth of his touch lingering on her skin, even after he withdrew his hand.

“You’re feverish,” Kairus said, his voice filled with quiet concern, his brow furrowing deeper. “You must go home. Rest.”

Avyanna’s mind raced. Feverish? She hadn’t even realized—her body had been so occupied with the strange mix of emotions swirling within her that it barely registered. She opened her mouth to protest, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she found herself nodding, too dazed by the unexpected encounter, the sudden closeness, and the intensity of the situation.

Ruth’s voice broke through her haze. “You don’t look okay, Avyanna,” she said, more gently this time, her tone shifting from loud surprise to concerned understanding. “Maybe you should listen to him.”

Avyanna hesitated, her thoughts tangled. She didn’t want to leave. Not now, not when things were so complicated, when there were so many things left unsaid. But Kairus’s insistence, the way he had placed his hand on her forehead with such care, made it hard to argue. He was right. She did feel unwell.

“I’m fine,” she managed to say, her voice shaky, though she didn’t believe it herself. “I’m just… a little tired.”

But Ruth wasn’t buying it. She gave Kairus a skeptical look, then turned back to Avyanna with a more determined expression. “You’re not fine. And we’re not letting you stay here and get worse. Let’s go, Avyanna.”

Avyanna’s lips parted to protest again, but the exhaustion in her body, the ache in her mind, and the weight of everything pressing down on her made it impossible to argue. Ruth was right. She couldn’t keep pretending. Not when she was this close to breaking down.

Kairus’s eyes softened, as if he understood her struggle, but his concern never wavered. “I’ll help you get home,” he said, his voice steady and reassuring.

The last thing Avyanna wanted was for him to see her like this, weak and vulnerable, but she couldn’t push him away either.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice small.

Ruth stood, her gaze darting between the two of them. There was a mix of curiosity and protectiveness in her eyes. She gave a quiet sigh and stood up too. “Come on, let’s get you out of here before you collapse on us.”

Avyanna, still holding onto the cup of coffee, looked at Ruth with a faint smile. “I want my coffee,” she said, her voice a little weak but firm. She wrapped her fingers around the cup and took a slow sip, as if savoring the moment, before starting to walk toward the door.

Kairus and Ruth moved to her sides, both reaching out to support her, but she quickly brushed them off with a dismissive wave. “I just want to enjoy my day off,” she muttered under her breath, trying to sound more in control than she felt.

As she stepped outside the café, the cool air hit her face, and for a brief moment, she felt the weight of the world lift. But then, her vision started to blur. It wasn’t a sudden shift—it was subtle, creeping in at the edges of her awareness. She blinked, trying to focus, but the dizziness worsened. Her knees began to feel unsteady beneath her, and despite her best efforts to take another step, her legs gave way.

“Avyanna!” Ruth’s voice rang out in panic, but it was too late. Avyanna’s legs buckled, and she collapsed onto the pavement with a soft thud, the coffee cup slipping from her hands and spilling its contents across the ground.

Kairus was immediately at her side, kneeling next to her, his expression a mix of concern and frustration. “What the hell, Avyanna?” he muttered, carefully trying to lift her into a sitting position. His hands were gentle but firm, his worry evident.

Avyanna’s breath was shallow, and her head swam with the fog of exhaustion and confusion. Her hand weakly reached out to steady herself, but the world around her was spinning too fast. The last thing she remembered was Ruth’s frantic voice and Kairus’s hands on her, but the edges of her awareness were fading fast.

“Just rest,” Ruth urged, kneeling beside her. “We’ll get you home. You don’t have to fight us.”

But Avyanna’s mind was already drifting, the weight of everything—her fears, her emotions, her doubts—finally catching up to her all at once. She closed her eyes, letting herself drift into unconsciousness.