Chapter 13: Few Things Left Unsaid. 0.1
The cafe was calmer now, the evening settling into its corners. Kaia placed the sunflowers gently on the counter, removing the paper wrap with care. She didn’t look at them for long - almost as if they demanded more emotion than she was ready to give.
Mrs. Alder noticed.
“They’re lovely’', she said softly.
Kaia nodded, absently.
“Yes, someone geve it to me today.'“
Mrs. Alder hummed, trimming a stem.
“Kind gesture.”
Kaia leaned against the counter. arms folded loosely.
“It’s strange, isn’t it?”
Mrs. Alder looked up.
“What is, dear?”
Kaia watched the light fade through the window.
“How people you don’t know, can be…gentle.Thoughtful. Sometimes kinder than the ones who are supposed to be there.”
She paused, choosing her words carefully.
“There was a time,” she continued, voice steady but distant. “where I use to wait for that kind of care. From people who shared my blood. I thought if i tried harder, gave more, stayed quieter…..maybe it would come.”
Mrs. Alder didn’t interrupt.
Kaia smiled faintly, without humour.
“But eventually, you realize - people only remember you when they need something, not you, just what you can offer.”
Mrs. Alder set the flowers aside and came closer.
“So you stop expecting,” Kaia added.
“Not because you don’t feel anymore. But because hoping hurts more than being realistic.
She reached for a mug, wrapping her hands around it the way she always did.
“Now,” she said softly, I’m grateful for moments. Not promises. A kind gesture from a stranger…. feels lighter. There’s no debt attached to it.
Mrs. Alder studied her for a long moment.
“You’ve leaned to survive with dignity,” she said finally.
“But don’t confuse, that with not needing love.”
Kaia didn’t respond right away.
“I don’t need it,” she said after a pause.
“I’ve made peace with that.”
Mrs. Alder smiled gently, knowingly.
“No, my dear. You’ve made peace with not asking for it.”
She reached for Kaia’s hand, squuzing it once.
“And that tells me, once you needed it very badly.”
Kaia looked away, blinking slowly.
Outside, the sunflowers caught the last trace of daylight.
They stood quietly for a while - no fixing, no reassuring, no false hopes.
Just understanding.
Sometimes, that was enough.
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