Sophie stood in front of the mirror, brushing through her tangled hair, faint traces of last night’s tears clinging to her lashes. The breakup had been clean, no big dramatic scene, just a slow unraveling. She knew it was for the best, but that didn’t make it easier.
Her phone buzzed with a text from her best friend, Mia: "Coffee? I’m not letting you spend another Saturday afternoon rewatching rom-coms and pretending it’s all good."
Sophie smiled, because Mia had a point. She could wallow, or she could be a little more herself—the self who used to laugh over cheap coffee and argue about whether the Croissant Girl or the Muffin Guy was the best pastry choice.
In the café, Mia’s face lit up when she saw Sophie. “Look at you,” she said, reaching for a hug. “I know the post-breakup glow is usually just dehydration and lack of sleep, but I swear you’re pulling it off.”
Sophie laughed, something light and free. “Thanks.”
They spent the next few hours talking about everything except the ex—work, random news, the latest Netflix doc. At some point, Sophie realized her heart didn’t hurt as much. Maybe it would again later, but for now, she was just Sophie, sitting in a café with a friend, laughing at things that were completely unrelated to some boy she'd likely forget someday.
And that felt like enough.
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