If she had stayed

Ivy never stopped for anything, not a bump in the road, not even an animal she might’ve just run over. She was always on the move, acting on impulse, yet somehow, always with purpose. Her mind was simply a whirlwind of plans and determination, where to go or what to try next. I used to stare at her in admiration, wondering how she did it all.  In the time I had known her, I never once saw her come up for air, ever, and that's exactly how she became the loss of my life.

I still remember the first time I saw Ivy. It was a sunny autumn day, and she walked in through the stained-glass doors, her dirty blonde hair all over the place. Her clothes were all wrinkled, and there was mud on her face, yet she looked perfect. There was not a single time when Ivy hadn’t looked perfect. No matter what she was doing, rock climbing, driving, sleeping—That's a lie, Ivy was an ugly sleeper, a snorer too, but she was perfect regardless—she couldn’t look bad if she tried, though I may be biased.  

“Hello? Is anyone there?” She called out. Her voice lingered in the empty coffee shop.  

“Be right there!” I called from the kitchen.  

I wiped my hands on my apron and rushed out to the counter, only to be greeted by a beauty more striking than I could’ve ever imagined. Ivy stood there, fidgeting with her ring, her restless energy filled the room.  

Her eyes caught mine, and she smiled—a mischievous, yet the warmest smile I’ve ever seen. “I’m Ivy,” she said.   

“Finnley,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady, “What can I get for you?” 

She glanced around the shop, her eyes darting from the paintings on the wall to the knickknacks scattered on the shelves. “I’m not sure, I don’t really drink coffee.”  

“Oh, well, this is awkward,” I said, half-joking, gesturing to the rows of carefully curated coffee beans and the espresso machine that was practically humming with readiness.  

Ivy laughed, a sound so free and happy that it made me momentarily forget how to breathe. “Guess I wandered into the wrong place,” she said, leaning against the counter. “But hey, I’ll take a tea if you have it.” 

“Of course,” I said, already reaching for the canisters behind me. “We have green, earl grey, and herbal.”  

She tilted her head, considering. “How about you surprise me. I love surprises.” 

I prepared a cup of Earl Grey with just a hint of lavender, as I handed it to her, she cupped the mug in her hands like it was a treasure, the steam curling up between us.  

She took a sip, her eyes lit up and widened in mock surprise. “Wow, you’re good at this.”  

“Good at tea?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.  

“Good at reading people, not everyone likes lavender, but I love it.” She said with a grin.  

Her words struck a chord in me, though I couldn’t quite place why. “I guess I got lucky.” I said, shrugging it off, “So, what brings you here?” 

“Just passing through. I was on my way to the mountains, took a wrong turn, and ended up in this cute little town. Thought I’d stretch my legs and grab a drink before heading back out.” 

“Mountains, huh?” I asked, nodding. “You hike?” 

“Hike, climb, explore—anything that gets me out of the house.” Her eyes flickered with excitement as she spoke, and it was impossible not to get lost in them. “What about you? How’d you end up here, in this peculiar town?”   

I chuckled. “It’s a long story.” 

She raised an eyebrow. “Lucky for you, I like long stories.” 

I hesitated, but there was something about Ivy that made it easy to talk, like she had this way of drawing people out of their shells without even trying. So, I told her about how I’d left the city to chase a quieter life, how the coffee shop had been a dream of mine since college, and how I’d poured everything I had into making it a reality. 

She listened, her chin propped on her hand, her eyes fixed on me with an intensity that was both flattering and unnerving. When I finished, she let out a low whistle. “Wow. That’s impressive. I don’t think I’ve ever stayed in one place long enough to build something like this.” 

“Maybe you should try,” I said, half-teasing, but there was an edge of sincerity in my voice.  

She laughed, but there was a softness to it this time. “Maybe I should. But I think I’d drive myself crazy. I’m not wired for quiet life.” 

I wanted to argue, to tell her that she could be whatever she wanted, but I stopped myself. Ivy wasn’t someone you tried to pin down or change. She was who she was—wild, untamed, and utterly captivating. 

Instead, I asked, “So, how long are you sticking around?” 

She smiled, a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. “Long enough to finish this tea. Maybe a little longer, if you keep surprising me.” And just like that, she was in my life, one surprise at a time.  

I didn’t see Ivy much after that day. We talked on the phone, but it wasn’t the same. The image of her just wouldn’t leave my head, I knew I had to see her again. So, that’s exactly what I did. I called her the next day and asked her to meet up, and we did. After that, we hung out weekly. With every word she spoke, I felt like my breath was being cut short, she was more perfect than words could explain, and with each passing day, my love for her grew more and more. I wish I could tell her, but I knew that it wouldn’t work, she wouldn’t have stuck around. She was too caught up in her busy life, sometimes I felt that no matter what I did, I wouldn’t fit into it anymore. 

One day, she stopped by the coffee shop again, it was storming outside, and I knew she lived too far away to just be dropping by. “Ivy? How’d you get here? The roads are horrible.” 

She shrugged, her wet hair plastered to her face, the usual sense of life in her was gone, and I knew something was deeply wrong. “You know me Finnley, some bad weather isn’t going to stop me. Can I have some of that tea you made the first day we met?”  

“You’re crazy, no one should be driving in this. Sure you're okay?” I asked as I handed her the tea.  

She sat down and glanced out the window, taking a sip of her tea. With a thoughtful expression she mumbled, “I don’t know Finnley, sometimes I feel like I’m getting too good at running from things, you know?”  

I nodded slowly, even though I wasn’t sure I fully understood. “What do you mean?” 

She set her cup down, “Everything. People. Life, I hate that I have to do this, but it’s like I don’t know how to stay still anymore. Meeting you has been one of the best things to ever happen to me, and I’ve climbed Mount Everest before,” she said, softly laughing. “Finnley, you have brought out a side of me that I didn’t even know existed, I never ever come back to the same place twice, yet here I am. But I have to keep moving forward, trying new things, chasing new places, it’s exhausting sometimes but it’s the only thing that keeps me alive.”  

I could see the vulnerability in her eyes, something I had never seen before, and it stopped me cold. This was a side to Ivy that I never thought I’d see—the side that wasn’t invincible, for the first time, she didn’t have it all figured out. “You aren’t alone, Ivy,” I said quietly, trying to keep my voice steady, “I get it, I’ve spent my whole life running from something too, but with time I’ve realized that I don’t have to. You don’t have to run, not here, not with me.” 

She met my gaze, and for a moment, I thought maybe she’d say something—maybe she’d open up to me the way I’d always wanted her to. But instead, she just smiled faintly, turning away again. “I wish I could believe you Finnley, I really do. But I can’t, if I stay, I’ll just get bored, and the last thing I want is for our last memory together to be a huge fight just because I didn’t know how to stay,” she said softly.  

My chest tightened at her words, “So, what, you’re just going to keep running forever? Even if it means to lose the people who care about you?”  

She was quiet for a while, her fingers tracing the rim of her mug, “I don’t know,” she finally said. “I really wish I did, but I don’t.”  

Her words hit harder than the rain outside, and at that moment, I realized something I’d never fully understood before: I loved her. I loved her in a way that was beyond attraction, beyond the perfect moments, beyond the adventure. I loved her in a way that made me want to stay beside her forever, no matter how fast she ran or how far she went. But no matter how much I loved her, I realized I could never make her stay, she wasn’t ready. Not yet. But I was ready to wait for her, no matter how long it took, she was all I've ever wanted.

I reached out then, my hand brushing gently on the counter, “Ivy please, you don’t have to run this time, you don’t have to have all the answers. Maybe you could try stopping, just this time, just long enough to see if there’s something worth staying for.” I felt my eyes tearing up, I couldn’t bear losing her.  

She didn’t look up, I wish she had, but she didn’t. For a moment, I thought she might laugh, telling me that I was being too serious, or that I didn’t understand her. But instead, she just nodded and said, “Maybe. Maybe you’re right.”  

But even as she said the words, I knew deep down that it was only a matter of time before she’d slip away again--going on another hike, discovering new places, walking into new coffee shops, trying new types of tea--and I’d be left here, wondering if I had really been enough for her to stay. 

Later that night, after the storm had passed and the streets had dried, Ivy left without so much as a backward glance. She said she needed to get going, that she had more to do, more roads to drive down. She told me she would call, but I knew, just like that, she was gone again. 

I waited for her call all night, staring at the phone, hoping maybe it would ring, but it never did. I waited for her to show up; to tell me she was ready to stay, but she never did. And in the end, she was gone forever, just like I’d always feared. 

I still remember that stormy night. I still remember the way she looked at me, with those soft, searching eyes. And I still wonder what would’ve happened if she had stayed, if she had stopped running long enough to let me love her the way I wanted to. But I’ll never know. 

What I do know is that Ivy never stopped moving, not for anything. Not for me. Not even for herself. And in the end, that’s what drowned her. 

And I couldn’t save her.