Samantha

The office breakroom hummed with the quiet chatter of colleagues grabbing their morning coffee. Samantha leaned against the counter, idly scrolling through her phone when a notification popped up—*your ex liked your photo*. Her thumb froze mid-swipe. The last time they’d spoken was months ago, after that messy breakup. She exhaled sharply, pocketing her phone just as the breakroom door swung open.

There he was, holding a steaming mug with that familiar awkward grip. His eyes flicked to her, then away just as fast. The air thickened with unspoken words, the scent of burnt coffee beans doing little to mask the tension.

The notification lingered in her mind like a stubborn coffee stain. She could feel his presence before she even looked up, the familiar weight of his gaze prickling her skin. Swallowing hard, she busied herself with stirring her tea—too vigorously, sending a splash over the rim.

"Didn't peg you for the nostalgic type," she said, voice drier than she intended. Her eyes flicked to his mug. "Still drowning your coffee in sugar, I see."