Closer - A Spencer Reid story (2)

2

Spencer stared at the spot where Yn had been standing just moments ago, his mind still reeling. The clink of coffee cups and the chatter around him faded into the background, becoming little more than a distant hum as his thoughts tumbled over themselves in a chaotic frenzy.

Yn. Here, after all these years.

It didn't make sense. He hadn't even considered the possibility that their paths might cross again, not after she had moved halfway across the world to Hong Kong. That chapter of his life had been closed—or so he had told himself. She was gone, and he had tried to move on. He had tried to bury the past, to forget the way she had made him feel, the way their relationship had both exhilarated and suffocated him all at once.

But now, seeing her again, all those emotions were rushing back, flooding his chest like a tidal wave. He had never fully dealt with the guilt, the regret, the shame of how things had ended. He hadn't wanted to face it. He had hoped, foolishly, that time and distance would make it all go away. But it hadn't. The unresolved feelings, the wounds he had tried to forget, had been there all along, festering beneath the surface.

As June chatted across from him, oblivious to the internal storm raging in his mind, Spencer found it impossible to focus on what she was saying. His thoughts kept drifting back to Yn, to the way she had looked at him with that calm, collected expression. It had been so long since they had last spoken, yet she had appeared...unfazed. Almost indifferent.

How could she be so composed? How could she look at him like he was just another face from her past, when all he could think about was how much he had hurt her? He had betrayed her, in the worst possible way, and the guilt of that betrayal still gnawed at him.

He glanced at June, feeling a sudden, sharp pang of guilt. Here he was, sitting with his girlfriend, the woman he was supposed to be committed to, and all he could think about was Yn. It wasn't fair to June. She didn't deserve to be a part of this tangled mess of unresolved feelings and lingering regrets.

"I'm sorry, what were you saying?" Spencer asked, forcing himself to focus on June, though his heart wasn't fully in it.

June gave him a curious look, her brow furrowed slightly. "I was just asking if you wanted to do something this weekend. Maybe a little day trip out of the city?"

Spencer nodded, trying to smile, but it felt strained. "Yeah, that sounds nice."

She studied him for a moment longer, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Are you okay? You've been kind of...distracted since we got here."

He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. "I'm fine. Just...work stuff on my mind." The lie felt bitter on his tongue, but he couldn't tell her the truth. Not now. Not when he hadn't even sorted through his own emotions yet.

June seemed to accept his answer, though a trace of concern lingered in her eyes. She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. "Well, if you need to talk about it, I'm here."

Spencer nodded, his stomach twisting with guilt. "Thanks," he murmured, though his mind was already drifting back to Yn.

Outside, Yn walked briskly down the sidewalk, her coffee in hand, the cool air brushing against her skin as she moved through the bustling city streets. On the surface, she appeared as calm and composed as ever, her expression neutral, her steps steady. But beneath the surface, her thoughts were anything but calm.

Spencer.

She hadn't expected to see him today—hadn't expected to see him at all, really. In the years since she had left for Hong Kong, she had pushed him out of her mind as much as she could. There had been no point dwelling on the past, not when there was so much distance between them, both literally and emotionally. It was easier that way. Easier to forget, to move on, to pretend that what they had shared had been nothing more than a fleeting chapter in her life.