Chapter 3 — Coffee and Candor

Noelle

The bell above the door of The Coffeehouse on Linden gave a cheery jingle, entirely at odds with the storm brewing inside Noelle Hall. She stepped inside, greeted by the comforting aroma of freshly ground coffee and sugar-dusted pastries. The café, with its mismatched furniture and walls adorned with vibrant local artwork, exuded warmth and charm. Sunlight filtered through the bay windows, spilling onto the worn wooden floors.

She paused near the doorway, her fingers tightening around the strap of her bag. The hum of soft indie music and low conversations wrapped around her, but her mind replayed Caleb’s words: *“It’s good to have you back.”* A knot tightened in her chest. She unclenched her hands and took a slow, controlled breath, forcing herself to relax. This was supposed to be a sanctuary, a reprieve from the emotional chaos she’d walked into—no, collided with—earlier.

“Over here!” Leah’s voice rang out, bright and unmistakable. She was seated at a round table near the bay window, her patterned dress as bold and colorful as her personality. A latte, with what Noelle guessed was an extra mound of foam, sat untouched in front of her as she waved Noelle over.

Noelle squared her shoulders, her heels clicking against the floor as she crossed the room. Sliding into the chair opposite Leah, she let out a small sigh, allowing the café’s comforting atmosphere to seep into her defenses.

“Well, don’t just sit there looking like you’ve been hit by a truck,” Leah said, propping her chin on her hand. “Spill.”

Noelle rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the slight twitch of her lips. “Can I get a coffee first?”

Leah waved dismissively. “Fine. But don’t think you’re off the hook. You texted me in all caps—‘YOU WON’T BELIEVE WHO THE DEAN IS.’ I’ve been dying here.”

A barista appeared at their table, setting down a cappuccino without a word. “Bold and extra shot, right?” they said with a smile before disappearing.

“Regular already?” Leah teased, her brows rising.

“It’s been a week,” Noelle said dryly, picking up the cup. “Clearly, I’m memorable.”

“Or predictable,” Leah shot back, her grin widening. “Now stop stalling.”

The creamy bitterness of the cappuccino was a small comfort, but it wasn’t enough to dispel the lingering tension in her chest. Caleb’s face flashed in her mind: the way his piercing blue eyes softened when he looked at her, as if he hadn’t expected her to walk through his door but couldn’t bring himself to look away either. The memory made her grip the cup tighter, her pulse quickening.

“So,” Leah prompted, leaning forward with unrestrained curiosity. “Caleb Ryker. Let’s hear it.”

Noelle placed the cup down a little harder than she intended and began fiddling with the edge of her napkin. “He’s the dean now. My boss.” She let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Of all the universities in the world, of course, I end up at the one where he’s in charge.”

Leah’s grin widened, her eyes sparkling. “Oh, this is better than I imagined. The drama, the tension. Please tell me his hairline didn’t survive the years.”

Noelle snorted, though the humor didn’t last. “It survived just fine. In fact, he looks…” Her voice trailed off into an exasperated sigh. “He looks better than I remember, which is just… annoying.”

Leah let out an exaggerated groan. “Why is it that the men who wreck us always seem to age like fine wine? It’s like heartbreak is their secret skincare routine.”

“Apparently.” Noelle traced the rim of her cup with a fingertip, her mind straying again to Caleb’s voice, his presence. “He acted all calm and professional, but I could tell. Seeing me threw him off balance.”

“Well, good,” Leah said fiercely. “Let him be uncomfortable. Let him squirm. He owes you that much.” She softened, placing a hand over Noelle’s. Her tone shifted, the teasing giving way to genuine concern. “How are you feeling? Really?”

Noelle hesitated. How was she feeling? Her chest felt tight, her thoughts scattered, emotions clashing somewhere between anger, confusion, and something softer, something she hadn’t allowed herself to name. She thought back to the slight tremor in Caleb’s hand when he handed her the folder, the way he said her name like it held weight.

“I don’t know,” she admitted finally, her voice quieter. “It was like stepping into someone else’s life. Seeing him again felt… surreal. Like no time had passed, but everything’s different.”

Leah nodded, her expression thoughtful. “You didn’t think you’d ever see him again, let alone work with him. That’s a lot to process.”

Noelle huffed a dry laugh. “Understatement of the year.”

“And?” Leah prompted, tilting her head.

“And…” Noelle’s voice faltered as she recalled Caleb’s parting words: *“It’s good to have you back.”* Her chest ached, her pulse stuttering. “He seemed… glad to see me,” she said, her tone sharper than she intended. Her fingers tightened around her cup. “And that’s the worst part. It’s confusing. I came here to focus on my career, to leave all the chaos behind. This—him—it’s not part of the plan.”

Leah’s brows rose. “Plans are safe,” she said, her tone calm but pointed. “Safe doesn’t always mean right. Maybe this chaos is exactly what you need.”

Noelle shook her head, the statement striking too close to something she wasn’t ready to face. “I don’t need chaos. I need professionalism. Focus. Control.”

“Uh-huh,” Leah said, her gaze piercing. “And lying to yourself about how much you don’t care?”

Noelle glared at her, though there was no heat behind it. “I hate you sometimes.”

“I live for it,” Leah said breezily, but her gaze softened again. “Seriously, Noelle, you’re allowed to feel things. Even if it’s messy. Even if it’s him.”

Noelle opened her mouth to argue, but the words caught in her throat. She hated how Leah had a way of peeling back her defenses with a single sentence. It was infuriating, but also why she trusted her.

“Now, tell me about the earrings,” Leah said, sitting back, a playful smirk returning to her face.

Noelle blinked. “The earrings?”

“Yes, the ones you wore to meet Caleb. Were they the ‘don’t mess with me’ pair or the ‘I’m thriving without you’ pair?”

Noelle couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up. “Thriving, obviously.” She touched the bold geometric earrings that still hung from her ears, the gold accents catching the light. “Not that he noticed.”

“Oh, he noticed,” Leah said firmly. “Men like Caleb notice *everything.* They just pretend they don’t.”

Noelle rolled her eyes, but a hint of satisfaction crept in. “Good. Let him see I’m not the same person I was back then.”

“Exactly,” Leah said, lifting her latte in a mock toast. “To thriving—and making him regret every single stupid decision he’s ever made.”

Noelle clinked her cup against Leah’s, but her smile wavered as Caleb’s voice echoed in her mind once more. *“It’s good to have you back, Noelle.”*

Her gaze drifted toward the bay window, where sunlight dappled the cobblestones and the eucalyptus trees swayed in the breeze. The café’s warmth pressed against her, but a small, sharp ache lingered beneath it. She sipped her coffee, grounding herself in its rich bitterness.

Maybe Leah was right—maybe chaos wasn’t all bad. But if Caleb had taught her anything, it was that chaos could leave scars. For now, she would keep her walls up, her focus sharp. But the past—the past had a way of sneaking in, no matter how high the walls.

And maybe, just maybe, a part of her wasn’t entirely ready to let it go.