If Only You Knew

FOUR

- Have you ever been to Cafe 23?

As we strolled away from the park, I noticed Shawn's hands tucked into his jacket, giving me the feeling that he was pretty relaxed. His voice sounded a few octaves lower than in my memories and his eyes seemed softer than I remembered. His presence however felt the same.

- No, not yet.

I had my spot, Film Cafe, and it was my go to for a lovely oat milk matcha treat. It was a beautiful and friendly space, and as someone who loves a good routine, it had become my hub.

- It's one of my favorite coffee spots, and their pastries are to die for, Shawn continued.

He pulled the door open for me, and as I stepped inside, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee greeted us. A corner filled with books, tall plants and a beautiful golden mirror gave the place a cozy and rustic charm. We approached the counter, skimming the blackboard display of beverages.

- Anything you would recommend? I asked.
- I personally love their gingerbread latte.

I made a thoughtful noise in response, squinting at the chalk letters. Shawn turned to me, his brows furrowed.

- Do you drink coffee?
- No, not really. The pistachio matcha sounds good though.

Coffee was never my first choice, the frantic caffeine boost often led to a crash and a massive headache. There was enough adrenaline coursing through me already, so I was torn between the pistachio matcha and the hazelnut hot chocolate. 

- It does. Are you hungry? he asked.

My eyes wandered over the display of tempting, colorful pastries. I settled on a blueberry scone, even though my standards were set high, having tasted many in London, but I was curious to taste if this one would hold up to my palate.

We placed our orders and found a cozy corner to sit, keeping an eye on the baristas for our drinks. As I sat down, my mind immediately began to race. I wasn't sure how to start the conversation, and my hands impulsively reached for the scone in front of me, nerves tickling my insides.

- So, how have you been?

Shawn unwrapped his scarf and draped it over the back of the bench. His gaze met mine with a hint of vulnerability, and I hurried to chew what I just shoved in my mouth, nodding to him.

- Good, I guess. I don't know how to answer that, it's been a while.

The moment the words left my lips, I regretted mentioning there had been a decade of silence between us. But a lot had happened in our lives and I didn't know where to begin. Compared to what he must have experienced in the whirlwind of his music career, my usually unconventional life seemed very mundane.

- It's been quite some time, he agreed, his eyes betraying emotions I hadn't anticipated.

A thousand different things crossed my mind when I got distracted by the delightful flavor of my pastry. It wasn't too sweet and the blueberries added the right amount of bitterness. This was very close to the scones from my favorite bakery on Haymarket, back in London.

- Oh, this is good.
- Is it? Shawn asked.
- Yes, very similar to a British one.

I impulsively held my plate out to him offering to taste, out of nervousness. Shawn didn't seem to mind, and took a polite bite before nodding in approval.

- You're based in London now, right? he asked, wiping the corners of his mouth.
- Yes, I moved there six years ago. I went there to study acting, fell in love and never left. Obviously the industry is not always easy, but there something about the thrill of being on stage and the energy of an audience that I find nowhere else.