Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTRGPDE07F3JCKEM6GPDQQR

The Raven's Nest held its usual Wednesday night crowd - a scattered handful of regulars nursing their drinks in comfortable silence. Aurora wiped down the bar top, having picked up an extra shift to cover for Silas while he recovered from a bout of flu. The familiar motions of cleaning glasses and restocking bottles had become almost meditative over the past few months. The door creaked open, letting in a gust of autumn air and a tall figure in a charcoal suit. Aurora's hand froze mid-wipe, the cloth forgotten as recognition hit her like a physical blow. "Evan?" He turned at her voice, his perfectly styled dark hair and sharp features exactly as she remembered, yet somehow different. The cocky grin she'd once found so charming was gone, replaced by something more weathered. "Rory?" His briefcase hit the floor with a soft thud. "I didn't... this isn't where I'd expect to find you." "I work here." She squared her shoulders, grateful for the solid wooden bar between them. "What can I get you?" Evan settled onto a barstool, his expensive suit out of place among the pub's worn leather and exposed brick. "Scotch. Neat." He loosened his tie. "Last I heard, you were meant to be finishing law school." Aurora poured his drink with steady hands, though her heart hammered against her ribs. "Plans change." "They certainly do." He took a sip, eyes moving over the vintage maps on the walls. "Your father still asks about you at the firm. Did you know I made junior partner?" "Congratulations." The word tasted bitter. Aurora busied herself arranging clean glasses, anything to avoid his gaze. "You could have been there too, you know. We had it all mapped out." "We?" Her laugh came out sharp. "You had it mapped out. Every detail of my life, down to which house we'd buy and how many children we'd have." Evan's fingers tightened around his glass. "I only wanted what was best for you." "Best for me?" The old anger bubbled up, hot and familiar. "Like when you 'accidentally' deleted my art school application? Or when you convinced me I was too sensitive about your 'jokes' in front of your friends?" "I was young. Stupid." He stared into his scotch. "I've changed, Rory." "So have I." She grabbed a fresh cloth, attacking an imaginary stain on the bar top. "I'm not that scared girl anymore, desperate to make everyone happy except herself." The silence stretched between them, filled with the soft clink of glasses and murmured conversations from other patrons. Through the window, the green neon sign cast shifting shadows across Evan's face, making him look older, more vulnerable. "I looked for you, you know. After you left." His voice had lost its polished edge. "Went to all our old spots. Even that ridiculous cafe where they served those awful lavender lattes you loved." "They weren't awful." The memory of those Sunday mornings hit unexpectedly hard - sharing pastries, planning futures that now felt like someone else's life. "They were terrible and you know it." A ghost of his old smile flickered across his face. "I miss that sometimes. How you could find joy in the strangest things." Aurora's throat tightened. "I still do. Just not with you." Evan drained his glass, setting it down with careful precision. "I deserve that." He reached for his wallet. "I should go." "Wait." Aurora pulled out a clean glass, pouring two fingers of scotch for herself. "Tell me about junior partner. Is Harrison still terrorizing the interns?" Something in his shoulders relaxed, just slightly. "Worse than ever. Last week he made poor Thompson redo an entire brief because the margins were off by half an inch." They talked about safe things then - mutual acquaintances, office politics, the changing face of Cardiff's city center. But underneath ran currents of all they weren't saying: the apologies that came too late, the dreams they'd outgrown, the people they'd become in each other's absence. When Evan finally stood to leave, he hesitated, briefcase in hand. "You look happy, Rory. Behind a bar in Soho isn't where I pictured you, but... it suits you." "It does." She gathered their empty glasses. "Take care of yourself, Evan." The door clicked shut behind him, and Aurora let out a long breath. Through the window, she watched him disappear into the London night, taking with him the ghost of who she used to be.