The big day has arrived, and Cobie has three important meetings today. Two with the dementia facility homes, and one with the guy that she's been talking to online in the past three months. Finally, she will be able to put a face to the person called BreadPitt. And she honestly still doesn't know how to feel about it.

But it's too late to ponder about what she feels. Also, what happened in the past weeks taught her enough that her feelings are not what she should rely on. Especially when she has more important matters to handle: finding the best care for her mom.

The first nursing home is fine, but sadly, she has to untick it from her list due to the budget. If they told her about the extra charges for certain facilities beforehand, she wouldn't have bothered to drive 60 miles from home.

Luckily, the Sunshine residence isn't that bad. Compared to the other nursing homes she checked online, this one has the least extra facilities but it covers the basics, and it's close to home. Still, when Cobie strolls to each part of the building and imagines her mom sitting there alone with her sketchbook, living in her own bubble of memory, probably believing that she doesn't have daughters, a sharp jab hits her chest.

Will Mom even like it here? Will she hate her for bringing and leaving her here? Deep down she feels guilty about sending her mom away from home, but how will they manage once Rose starts her full-time job? They can't ask Aunt Martha to watch Mom from time to time, and the adult daycare has reminded them for a while now that Mom needs a nursing home that specifically handles patients with dementia.

"I will be back to you on Monday. Let me discuss this with my family," Cobie says at the end of the tour, mimicking the bright smile from the staff in front of her.

"That's perfectly fine, dear," the woman replies, panting from the long walk during the tour. She definitely spends too much time behind her desk or the pantry. "We look forward to hearing from you."

In the next ten minutes, Cobie is behind her steering wheels again, heading to the lunch cafe where she and BreadPitt agreed to meet up. She leans to check her reflection in the rear mirror when she stops at the traffic lights, weighing if she should touch up a bit.

She decides not to. She doesn't want to overdo it or give the wrong idea as if she's trying too hard to impress him.

Why did she agree to meet him again? And where is this meeting going to bring them? In all honesty, Cobie is happy with just the way they are now, close enough but not too close. Still, refusing to meet him while he's in town sounds cruel, and granted, the boy will stop talking to her altogether. They have agreed this is going to be all platonic after all. At least, she doesn't need to lie about her feelings to BreadPitt; she doesn't have to pretend she likes him. There should be zero drama with him.

When she finally pulls over, she starts to have second thoughts. It's not too late to bail. She still can hit the accelerator, speed home, and deactivate her dating site account. Yet, she turns off her engine, and after checking her last look, she grabs her bag and jumps out of her car. She just hasn't been meeting any guys for some time. It's normal to feel a bit anxious.

It's just a quick lunch. Nothing to worry about.

Cobie glances down at her yellow mustard sundress. Its twirly hem dances around her knees as she saunters on the sidewalk, heading to Ebirra's cafe. The June sun beams gleefully, bathing the street with its warmth. Cobie smiles when she sees a young girl pouting while her mom is trying to reason with her on the side of the street. If only the girl knows that she will treasure this moment one day when things work the other way around, she won't be this upset.

Once she enters the cafe, a waiter welcomes her and escorts her to the back garden where Mr. Pott is waiting for her. The back terrace is bigger, classier, and busier than she thought. The place seems to be popular among women in their late twenties, making Cobie wonder why they aren't at their workplace at the moment? Right, some people just don't have to do slavery office work as she does, yet money keeps flowing in. Those lucky breeds.

She follows the waiter as he dances between tables and chairs that are sitting in the way. At this point, she expects to see a bulgy guy with a bread-loaf head -though he might look better than that- until the waiter stops at the corner end of the terrace.

A man is sitting in his white shirt and blue jeans, facing the other way around. Cobie can only see his back but the familiarity of his posture and his hair color strikes in.

"Here is your table, Miss."

It's when the guy snaps his head and looks up.

Cobie's breath hitches in her throat. "Peter."

The blankness inside Cobie's head swallows the murmur of people chattering and the clinking cutlery echoing across the cafe terrace. She can't think, she can't speak, and she can barely breathe. Are her eyes playing tricks on her? For years, she's been running from her past, leaving the dark part of her life, getting the toxicity out of her system. Now the very man who caused all of the disasters is standing before her, towering over her, and looking somehow ecstatic with the unexpected turn. What kind of joke is this?

"Koko..." The next thing she knows, Peter is already standing next to her, offering to support her, but she pushes his hands off her shoulder. "Are you...alright?"

"Yeah. I'm just...how?" she says as she staggers away. "Did you know all along it was me?"

"Hell, no! I swear I didn't know it was you." Peter rubs his dark hair nervously, glancing around the terrace. "I mean, you have the picture of that blonde on."

"I told you a few days ago it wasn't me."

"Fair." Peter nods while awkwardly shifting on her legs. "You look great. Life must have treated you well. Can we maybe sit down first? I mean, people are kinda" -he glances around again-"watching now."

For a second, she wants to turn around and head to the exit, escaping the very person who's been haunting her for almost a decade. He should be dead by now, or at least he's dead to her. How is he looking so much alive now?

"Would you like to have a drink first?" The waiter's voice breaks her train of thoughts, also her plan to escape.

"Uh, I-I will have water, please," she mutters before shifting her gaze back to Peter.

Peter hasn't changed much. He still has his well-built body that used to make him look outstanding. Undoubtedly, he must be still doing his routine given it's his weapon to charm girls. His dark brown hair, grayish-blue eyes, and strong jawlines portray how good life must have been for him at some point, because it doesn't look like it anymore. His dull eyes and hesitant countenance say enough.

The cool kid that felt so important to her, so intimidating, and held the power to crush her willingness to exist is now just a mere man who struggles to make a life for himself. The daunting smirk that was always stuck on his lips has now become an uncertain smile. He's not as overbearing as she remembers him. Where has that boy who thought he was the shit gone? Where has that jerk who believed he was going to rule the world disappeared to?

For all good reasons, Cobie feels the surge of pleasure knowing that this asshole is not doing better than she is.

"Would you sit down?" Peter asks, rubbing the back of his neck.

Cobie nods before scooting over to the seat in front of Peter's. "You're faking your age. You said you were twenty-four," she says while eyeing him sitting back to his spot.

Peter shrugs. "I know. I find twenty-four is just the sweet spot for a dating site. Easier to find girls."

"Did it work then?"

"You talked to me."

"Touche."

Peter rubs his hands over his face, still looking very much stunned. "It is really you. Man, this is just...insane."

"It is," she mumbles. "So, why BreadPitt? What is the story behind it?"

"It's still the same old nickname I had, remember? The Bratty Peter."

The waiter comes to bring the water. "Would you like to have something else?" he asks sweetly, contrasting his curious eyes darting back and forth between Cobie and Peter.

"Thank you. We're going to look at the menu first," Cobie replies.

"Alright. I'll be back in ten minutes." He nods and leaves.

Peter leans forward, his hands on top of each other on the table, watching her drink her water. "You haven't changed a bit, Koko. It's been almost nine years since...our graduation."

"Please, call me Cobie." Cobie places the empty glass back on the coaster, her eyes sharply boring into his. "And trust me, I have changed, Peter."

"Not to me." He grins as he pulls the menu card from the holder. "This is hilarious how you look exactly the same as I remember you. And you still have that feistiness in you."

The memory of their high school bliss is burning in her head. The way he approached her, the way he made her feel like she was the most special girl on earth, the way he ditched her without batting an eyelash, the way he let his girlfriend publicly humiliate her as if what they had was nothing, and the way he denied her pregnancy news.

"In case you're too blind to see, I'm not the same Cobie you knew. That stupid girl whom you screwed over and over is dead. And on that note, I lost my appetite. I'm going home."

"Hey, hey, wait." Peter extends his hand to catch her wrist, causing Cobie to narrow her eyes on him.

"Let. Go. Of. My. Hand," she hisses, and Peter obliges.

"Please, Kok...bie, can we just sit and talk like old friends would?"

"I'm not your old friend."

"Okay. Wrong word choice. Like someone who knew each other would do?" Peter stares at her with a pleading look; the look that used to melt her within milliseconds. "Please. I promise I won't say anything stupid. I just...I need this. I need to see you. I've been trying to look for you, you know."

Cobie stares at him, feeling the fire in the pit of her stomach. "I don't see why you need to see me again. I don't want to see you again, Peter. Whatever is left between us was done the day you chose to do nothing when I was humiliated by people in town. You've lost your chance. This meeting is just plain useless."

"I'm so, so, so, fucking sorry, okay?" he whisper-shouts, making his voice sound like it's stuck in his throat. "I've been wanting to say this but I was too late. You left the town after graduation, and nobody knew your whereabouts. I don't know why the hell I didn't reach out to you sooner, but you gotta trust me that I've been living in guilt. And it's eating me inside."

"And why should I care?"

"No, you shouldn't. I've been doing this to myself." Peter sighs in defeat. "But at least give me a chance to explain."

Cobie scoffs. "I'm past the phase of needing your explanation, Peter. I made a mistake by letting myself get involved with an arrogant, reckless, and self-centered small-town boy like you. Now I've moved on and am grateful for what I've had in my life. Your explanation isn't going to add anything to it."

It's when her phone chimes from inside her bag. Cobie snatches her bag and rummages through it to find her phone. Rose's name is blinking on the screen.

"Rose?"

"Cobie!" Rose calls in high pitch.

"What's wrong? Is everything alright?"

"It's Mom...mom is missing! I was on the phone with the substitute teacher and when I went down, Mom was gone," Rose rattles off between her raging breathings, the familiar traffic noise in the background. "I can't find her anywhere in the neighborhood. I knocked on every door, Mom wasn't there either. I was just checking the supermarket, she wasn't there!"

Cobie grabs her bag and stands up, her hands shaking. "Are you sure you have checked the whole house?"

"Yes, I did!" Rose's voice breaks into sobs. "I don't know where to find her! Oh, God! What if something happened to her?"

"I'm coming home now. We'll look for her together!" Cobie glances at Peter who straightens up his gesture in full alert. "I need to go," she says after she hangs up.

"What happened? Who is missing? Do you need help?" he asks while following Cobie to the cafe entrance.

"It's none of your concern. Goodbye, Peter."

Ignoring Peter calling her name, Cobie runs to her car like a madwoman. She doesn't care how uneven the gravel street is and how her wedges hurt her toes. She just needs to run to her car as fast as she can. If she didn't park a few hundred meters away from the cafe, she wouldn't need to sprint on the sidewalk like this. But who would've known Mom would be disappearing under her sister's nose today?

Her car is just a few rows away when a woman emerges between two cars, pushing a baby stroller to the pavement. It's too late for Cobie to halt. She jumps to the side to avoid the bump and loses her balance. The next thing she knows, her vision blurs and she lands on the bushes on the other side of the sidewalk.

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