If Only He Knew

Weeks passed, and everything changed.

Markus had switched his schedule, making sure he and Summer no longer worked the same shifts. The messages stopped, the playful looks across the counter disappeared, and the warm tone in his voice turned cold.

Summer still showed up every day, smiling when customers came through her line, pretending nothing was wrong. But inside, she was breaking. She’d started applying for other jobs—anything that paid better—but deep down, she knew she’d only stayed here for him.

Sometimes, after her shift, she drove to Markus’s apartment and sat in her car for hours. She watched the lights come on in his window. Watched Monae arrive with the kids. Watched her leave much later, laughing, her hand brushing against Markus’s chest before he kissed her goodbye.

Every time, Summer felt something inside her twist tighter.

That night, she went home, her body trembling with rage and heartbreak. She called Markus—once, twice, a dozen times. No answer. She texted him again and again, her words growing desperate. When her messages stopped delivering, she realized he’d blocked her.

She called from a restricted number. Still nothing.

She cried until her pillow was soaked, until the sun rose, and exhaustion finally dragged her into a restless sleep.

The next morning, she woke up with puffy eyes and a fake smile. She had her first OB appointment that day. Sitting in the waiting room, she watched couples around her—men holding their partners’ hands, whispering, kissing foreheads. Every happy face was another knife in her chest.

She wanted that.

She wanted him.

When the nurse told her she was twelve weeks along, Summer smiled for the first time in weeks. They handed her the sonogram photo—a small, blurred outline that already meant everything to her.

On the drive home, she posted it online with a short caption and then, deliberately, sent the photo directly to Monae on social media.

The next day at work, everything shifted again. Markus had put in his two weeks’ notice. Summer was offered his position.

When the new schedule came out, they were paired together again—for training.

Her heart raced when she saw his name beside hers.

The first few days were tense. Markus barely spoke, eyes glued to his phone whenever they were alone. Summer tried everything to catch his attention—small jokes, compliments, anything to make him look at her the way he used to.

Finally, one afternoon in the break room, the silence became unbearable. The smell of coffee and cleaning spray filled the air. Markus sat at the table scrolling on his phone, expression blank.

“Markus,” she said softly.

He looked up, and something unspoken passed between them—weeks of distance, pain, and longing condensed into a single moment.

Summer stepped closer, her voice trembling. “You miss me?”

He hesitated. “Summer…”

She leaned in, her words barely a whisper. “You still want me?”

For a moment, his resolve faltered. The space between them disappeared, the air charged and heavy. Their lips met—slowly at first, then with the urgency of everything unsaid.

It was reckless, dangerous, inevitable.

When they pulled apart, Markus looked dazed. Summer smiled faintly, heart pounding.

For her, this wasn’t just a mistake. It was proof. Proof that he still wanted her, still needed her, no matter what he said.

And as far as Summer was concerned, that meant he was still hers.

"After work, come to my place."

"I'll follow you home."