Mikha sat in her car, parked in the dim basement of her condo building. The engine was off, but she hadn't moved. Her hands rested on the steering wheel, unmoving, as the weight of her own thoughts pressed down on her.
I should fire her.
That was what she told herself. Over and over.
It was the only solution that made sense.
Yet here she was, gripping her phone so tightly her knuckles turned white, staring at Aiah's contact name on the screen.
For the past few days, they hadn't talked—not even a text. The silence felt heavier than she expected.
It gnawed at her.
She hated it.
Her thumb hovered over the call button.
And before she could talk herself out of it, she pressed it.
The line rang once. Twice.
Mikha held her breath.
Pick up.
"Hello?"
Aiah's voice was soft but guarded, catching Mikha off-guard.
Mikha swallowed hard, suddenly forgetting every rehearsed excuse she had lined up.
"Hey."
A pause.
"Hey."
Silence stretched thin between them, heavy with things neither of them wanted to say first.
Mikha squeezed her eyes shut.
"I... can we meet?"
Another pause.
Aiah didn't answer right away, and Mikha's grip on the steering wheel tightened.
"Now?" Aiah finally asked.
"Yes." Mikha's voice was quieter than she intended. "Please."
Aiah let out a slow breath on the other end.
"Where?"
The night was cool when Mikha pulled up to the small café Aiah had suggested—a quiet spot tucked away from the city noise.
It wasn't crowded. Only a few people lingered at the outdoor tables, lost in their own conversations.
Mikha spotted Aiah immediately, sitting alone by the window with a half-finished coffee in front of her.
For a moment, Mikha stayed frozen by the door.
Aiah wasn't looking at her. She was staring at something on her phone, brow slightly furrowed.
That same quiet confidence, that calm exterior—Mikha hated how familiar it felt now.
And how much she missed it.
She inhaled sharply and made her way over.
Aiah looked up as the door chimed, eyes meeting hers.
Neither of them spoke.
Mikha slid into the seat across from her, carefully avoiding Aiah's gaze for a second longer.
Aiah leaned back slightly, arms crossed.
"So..."
Mikha's throat felt dry.
"I was going to fire you."
Aiah blinked, caught off guard.
"Well. That's... direct."
Mikha let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Yeah. Thought you'd appreciate that."
