Chapter 3: Apple Tarts and Cardamom Buns

*Natalia's POV*

I ended up sporting winged eyeliner. It was subtle, but still present on shaping my eyes in a way that made me feel confident. Like it was my placebo to be in control, but the second I opened the door, Noah was the one that had all the control. Even when he made it sound the opposite with his apologetic pleads, as if it was me who did by forgiving him once again. He still controlled me.

His box of belongings was still on the floor by the front door, untouched and in my possession. He didn't come by for it. He couldn't have cared less about it.

"You have no idea how much I've missed you," he cupped my face with his hands, forcing out tears to streak down his cheeks, "My life has been so empty without you this past year."

"I've missed you too," I softly spoke out before he smushed his lips against mine.

I knew I shouldn't have, but I did. He was familiar. He tolerated all the parts of me I hated.

"Wait," I managed to pull slightly away, breaking our passionate kiss, by pressing my hands on his chest, "This can't be the same as before. You have to promise me it won't be the same, because I can't go through that again."

"It's not," he assured, "Baby, you've got to trust me. I saw a therapist that helped me see what went wrong so clearly. I've been good ever since. My anger is in control now."

Before nodding my head, I stared up at him to try to gage what was the truth. This was the last time I was giving him a chance to prove himself to me. The three years we were together couldn't have been for nothing.

He went to pull me back into a slow kiss, but I stopped it short, "One more thing. If we're doing this again, let me tell Jules myself first before we go public. And you have to let me hang out with her. She's my best friend that I also need in my life."

Stepping back, he removed his hands off my face as one of them rubbed the back of his head, "Alright. Yeah, I gotcha. I'll let you schedule a day or two of the week that's for your time with Jules. But no going to clubs or bars. That's out of the question. I don't trust those guys that go there just to cheat on their partner."

"Okay," I replied in agreement, but I honestly didn't have much choice, "Two days for Jules, no clubs or bars included. The rest is for you and you only."

So much for ever seeing Club Guy again, not that it truly mattered. Was there something mysterious about him that intrigued me? Absolutely. One night and he already challenged me. He was playing the game well. But he now had to find a different opponent, which I had no doubt would be easy for him.

Noah and I spent the next hour in my bed, engaging in rough sex that we knew brought him the most pleasure. I bought it out of a desperate necessity when we split up, him taking everything we owned together except for small pieces of furniture or knickknacks he deemed as useless and had no benefits for him.

"Fuck, baby," he breathed out, stretching his arms across the mattress as he laid on his back while catching air, "You still know how to make me happy. You just better not have been practicing with anyone else."

"Nope. No one else," I replied as I stood up to slip my clothes back on, throwing his at him in the process. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him, "But I know what else would make you happy."

He raised an eyebrow, pulling his shirt down over his head sliding his arms through the correct holes on the sides, "Filling our energy up with food for round two and three?"

"And four," I winked, tucking my white shirt in my shorts the same way I had it styled before they were ripped off my body, "We should go to La Cabra. I haven't been there in so long. It didn't feel right going without you. Too many memories, you know?"

After stepping into his jeans and zipping them up, he stood behind me as I loosened my shirt's tuck in the mirror. His arms wrapped around me in a tight compress while he kissed the side of my neck, "Well now we can make more while reminiscing on the past ones."

His touch tickled my neck, one of the most vulnerable places for me. Instinctively, I wiggled out of his arms in an uncomfortable yet playful laugh, "Noah, stop! You know I hate my neck being touched!"

He grabbed my body as an immediate response, teasing me with more neck kisses, "You mean like this?"

"Stop!" I giggled, using all my might to squeeze out of his grip, "I don't like it! Stop, stop!"

This time, he listened as our laughter diminished naturally, "Alright. Let's go get your favorite apple tarts. My treat."

I let him take the credit even though it was my suggestion. I guess if he was paying, it would be his treat anyways.

The café had that same New York energy I remembered, the crowds of people sitting round their respective tables. Some were enjoying their own company, strangers sipping on their drinks at the same table minding their own business. Others were chatting amongst themselves, possibly meeting for the first time.

"What about here?" I pointed to two chairs next to a quiet stranger digging into his pastry between sips of whatever beverage he ordered.

We walked to the table, placing our items on it. When I looked to my right, that's when I noticed his pastry was a freshly baked cardamom bun with a caramelized crust. Without him knowing, he got my stamp of approval with his pastry choice.

"Hey, stay right here," Noah stayed standing, "I gotta go to the bathroom."

"Don't worry, babe," I smiled, leaning upwards to give him a small peck, "Your seat's saved."

I looked back, watching him walk to the back of the café where the bathrooms were. My smile remained on my face as I picked up my apple tart, my taste buds already salivating. As I took my first bite, I froze when I glanced up at the stranger after he moved his body enough for me to visually take his face in.

Even when our eyes met, my teeth stayed biting down on the tart on my mouth. Club Guy wasn't just in the clubs. He was also in my favorite café.

"Who's following who now?" he smirked, wiping his fingers on a napkin, "Creep."

The corners of my lips curled up, no matter how much I tried to force a straight face, as I took the tart out of mouth, placing it back on the plate, "Josh, right?"

"Actually, it's—"

"Sorry. I promise I'm not following you," I rambled on, nervously cutting him off, "I'm just here with my boyfriend. Their apple tarts are to die for. The cardamom bun is in my top five though too, so I now know you have good taste in pastries."

Gazing downwards, he scoffed, "Boyfriend. Was he too busy for you last night that you had to find someone else to fuck?"

My face fell realizing it sounded immorally wrong without any context, "No. No, we broke up a year ago. It was, um, a necessary break we needed. We just got back together today, and I'd really appreciate it if he doesn't find out about what we did, even if we weren't together then."

He slowly nodded his head, "Got it. Your little secret's safe with me."

That mischievous perky aura he had when he first laid eyes on me had disappeared, as if the change of my relationship status disappointed him. He still stayed next to us, keeping to himself without a single glance as Noah and I kept our hands on each other in a lovey-dovey bubble that was probably inappropriate in a public setting.

Not until he was finished with his cardamom bun and coffee did he get the opportunity to meet eye contact with me for a split second, the smallest of a smile appearing as he crumpled up his napkin while standing up to leave.

I had to let that curiosity go.

So long, Club Guy.

Or maybe it was a, see you sometime soon, Club Guy.