In the dim light of a quiet café, Lydia sat across from her friend Max, nursing a drink that had long since lost its chill. The air was thick with unspoken words and lingering regrets as she gazed out the window, watching the rain cascade down the glass. The storm outside mirrored the turmoil within her.

“Pass me a drink,” she muttered, barely glancing at him. Max knew it was more than just the cider she craved; it was a distraction from the truths she was struggling to face. He took a sip of his own drink, trying to gather his thoughts before launching into another round of encouragement, but the weight of the conversation loomed heavy.

“You say it’s gonna take a while,” he began, his voice gentle yet firm. He could see the tears welling in her eyes, but she quickly blinked them away, a facade of strength masking the softness beneath. “Lydia, you can’t keep burying your feelings like this,” he said, sensing the depths of her despair. “You’ve waited too long to finally see—”

But she cut him off, frustration bubbling to the surface as she looked away. “You’re wasting your time, giving me the speech,” she snapped, the anger mingling with her sorrow. “I don’t need your pity, Max. Just… don’t reach for me right now.”

He took a deep breath, feeling the sting of her words. It was as if she was holding back the floodgates of her heart, fear gnawing at her insides. Tears formed, but she refused to let them fall. Instead, she reached for her cigarette, lighting it with shaky hands, inhaling deeply as if she could smoke away her fears.

Max watched, helpless, as she consumed her pain the only way she knew how, eyes distant, lost in a haze that offered her temporary solace. “Your smile,” he said softly, “it doesn’t reach your eyes anymore.”

Her laughter had once been infectious, the light within her a beacon in their dark world, but now it was snuffed out, replaced by a haunting emptiness. “You’ve taken a blow, haven’t you?” he forced out, trying to pierce through the veil of her silence. “It’s all down on paper, all that hurt and heartache. But you don’t have to face it alone.”

She looked back at him, and for a fleeting moment, he caught a glimpse of the vibrant woman he once knew, a flicker of hope in her deep-set eyes. “Had fun in the snow,” she mused quietly, her voice a whisper. Memories of laughter and joy surfaced, reminding her of brighter days. “But no see you later,” she added with resignation, the past clashing with the painful present.

Max leaned in, determined not to let her slip away again. “The sunshine in the rain is as deep as the sea,” he implored, grasping her hands over the table. “These storms will pass. You just need to believe.”

In that moment, the rain outside softened, the downpour giving way to a gentle drizzle, as if echoing his words, urging her to embrace the light even in times of darkness. Lydia felt a shift within her, a flicker of something warm beginning to rise through the shadows, whispering promises of brighter skies ahead. Perhaps it wouldn’t be easy, but for the first time in a long while, she felt ready to chase away the clouds.