Chapter 5 THE COFFEE DATE

The gentle clink of ceramic mugs and the low hum of jazz music filled the air at Brew & Bean, a quiet coffee shop nestled just a few blocks away from Saint Claire Empire. The day's tension still clung to Julian like a heavy cloak as he stepped through the door, Lexi right beside him. She glanced up at him, hopeful, trying to read his unreadable expression.

They picked a corner table by the window. Julian slid into his seat wordlessly, his posture straight, his eyes distant. Lexi took the opposite seat, placing her purse gently by her side.

"I'll have a caramel macchiato," she told the waiter with a soft smile. "Julian?"

"Black coffee," he answered curtly, barely glancing at the server.

Lexi waited until the server walked away before speaking. "I'm really sorry about Gideon. He was such a kind man."

"Yeah," Julian muttered, eyes fixed on the window. "He was one of our best."

There was a pause.

Lexi shifted in her seat. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Julian's fingers tapped the edge of the table absently. "Not really."

Lexi blinked, caught off-guard by the coldness of his tone. Still, she gave him the benefit of the doubt. He had just lost someone important. "I understand," she replied gently, "but sometimes talking helps."

He didn't respond.

Their drinks arrived, and Lexi took a slow sip from her cup, trying to find the right words to bridge the growing distance between them.

"So... do you remember when we used to come to this coffee shop in college?" she asked, her tone light. "You used to hate everything on the menu except the lemon muffin."

Julian gave a faint nod but no smile. "I remember."

Lexi chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood. "You said the coffee here tasted like burnt wood. And yet, here we are."

He took a sip from his cup. "Still does."

She forced a smile, but her heart was sinking.

For the next few minutes, Lexi tried to carry the conversation alone. She asked him how he was handling the preparations for the company's upcoming event, if he had spoken to Elma about his father's care, and even threw in a story about a childhood memory involving both their families.

Julian gave short, clipped answers. His mind was clearly elsewhere.

Lexi set her cup down, her patience thinning. "Julian... I'm trying here."

He blinked, finally meeting her eyes. "Trying what?"

"To connect. To make this work. To feel like I'm not the only one in this relationship who wants us to be something."

He sat back, exhaling deeply. "Lexi, I didn't invite you here for a relationship talk. I just needed air. Space."

Her eyes burned, and she clenched her jaw. "Then why ask me? Why not go alone?"

He didn't answer.

She stood abruptly, grabbing her purse. "You know what? I thought this would bring us closer. I thought maybe we'd talk, maybe laugh a little. Instead, I've been talking to myself for thirty minutes."

"Lexi-" he tried to speak, but she cut him off.

"No. You're not ready. Maybe you never were. But I'm not going to beg for scraps of attention from someone who can't even pretend to care."

With a heavy heart and trembling hands, she turned and walked out of the café, leaving her untouched drink behind. The door closed with a soft chime behind her.

Julian sat still, staring into his dark coffee as silence returned to the table. The window beside him reflected the fading afternoon light-but all he could see was her walking away.