The Heart's Quite Beginning

Chapter 9: Bridging Gaps and Brewing Bonds

After my early morning run and the unexpected conversation with Ethan on the beach, I returned home, my spirits lighter than they'd been in days. Though Ethan's reluctance to step inside the cafe still puzzled me, there was something in our exchange that left me feeling hopeful. His reserved nature felt like a riddle, but I sensed that, little by little, he was opening up.

I showered, changed, and hurried to Ink & Espresso, eager to throw myself into the familiar rhythm of the cafe. There was something comforting about the quiet hum of the espresso machine and the sight of pastries neatly arranged behind the glass. The aroma of freshly ground coffee and baked goods filled the air, wrapping around me like a warm embrace. It was these small rituals that anchored me.

As I wiped down the counters, I noticed her again—the same girl who had been coming to the cafe every day since it opened. She always sat at the far corner table by the window, where sunlight spilled through in the morning, casting a soft glow over her. Her dark hair fell in waves around her face, and her hands were always busy with embroidery. The delicate, colorful threads seemed to dance between her fingers, her focus intense as she worked.

Every day, she ordered the same thing: a cup of coffee in the morning, another in the afternoon, and a small pastry. Then she'd sit there quietly, lost in her own world. I'd been curious about her for days now, and today, with the cafe still quiet in the early hours, I decided to approach her.

I poured a fresh cup of coffee—this one on the house—and made my way over to her table.

"Mind if I sit?" I asked, placing the coffee in front of her.

She looked up, clearly surprised, her embroidery needle paused mid-stitch. "Oh, um... I didn't order this."

"I know," I said with a smile. "It's on the house. Consider it a little thank-you for being such a loyal customer."

Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she shook her head. "That's really sweet, but I should pay for it."

I waved off her offer. "Absolutely not. My treat."

After a brief hesitation, she gave a small smile and nodded. "Thank you. That's really kind of you."

We sat in comfortable silence for a moment, and I could see her relaxing, her initial surprise giving way to something more at ease.

"I've noticed you here every day," I said, finally breaking the silence. "I'm Lia, by the way. I run Ink & Espresso."

Her smile widened just a little. "I know. I've heard people talking about you. I'm Mia, Mia Thompson."

"Well, Mia, your embroidery is beautiful. You're really talented."

She glanced down at her work, running her fingers lightly over the threads. "Thank you. It's just a hobby, really. Something to pass the time."

I leaned in, intrigued. "You're so focused on it. I've been wondering about you—what brings you here every day?"

Mia looked out the window, her expression turning thoughtful. After a pause, she sighed. "I wasn't always this... free. I used to work in finance. My parents pushed me to study it abroad, even though I always wanted to be a teacher. I thought I'd do what they wanted for a while, and eventually, I'd get the chance to follow my own dreams."

I nodded, sensing there was more to her story. "But that didn't happen?"

She shook her head, her voice laced with quiet bitterness. "No. After I graduated, they insisted I take a job at a big corporate firm. I hated every minute of it. The hours were brutal—nine to five on paper, but in reality, it was more like nine to midnight. Weekends weren't really mine either. I felt like I was losing myself."