I Loved You Even You Left

The Perfect Beginning

It smelled here of fresh pastries and optimism, an odd combination for a tucked-away place on a rainy corner street. I made it my sanctuary, or rather, in the midst of that confusing tumult that surrounded me, a small, predictable haven where I sat by the window, had my latte, watched the world go by.

That morning, I was in my usual place, sketching with abandon into my notebook. My grocery list sat unwritten on the table, and a blueberry scone I'd promised myself I was going to eat but never did. I drew a little heart in the margin, then another, my pen blurring as I allowed the quiet hum of the café to lull me into a rare sense of peace.

The jingle of the bell above the door barely registered in my awareness. The place was always howling busy on Saturdays. Then, suddenly, a laugh, a warm, resonant sound among the clinking of cups and low murmurs. I looked up, curiosity gripping me despite myself.

He stood at the counter, his body leaning slightly on one elbow as he conversed with the barista. It was an easy, wide smile like the kind of smile that belonged to someone who had never had a bad day in his life. His brown hair was unruly, sticking up at odd angles as if he hadn't even bothered to look in a mirror.

I glanced back down at my notebook, my face red for staring. He was just a passerby.

Until he wasn't.

"Is this seat taken?"

I blinked. Now he was standing in front of me, his hold on a coffee cup clutched in one hand and balancing a muffin on top of it. He gestured toward the chair across from me with a small, hopeful smile.

"Oh, uh, no," I stuttered, gesturing awkwardly to the chair. "Go ahead."

"Thanks." He set his coffee down carefully, his movements easy and unhurried, like he had all the time in the world.

I tried to focus on my notebook again, but it was impossible to ignore him. He was unwrapping his muffin, humming softly under his breath. After a moment, he glanced up at me.

"Is the coffee here always this good, or am I just lucky today?" he asked.

I blinked, thrown by the question. "Oh, it's always good. That's why I keep coming back."

"Good to know." He took a sip, nodding thoughtfully. "I'm Liam, by the way."

"Ellie," I replied, feeling a small smile tug at the corners of my mouth despite myself.

"Nice to meet you, Ellie," he said. "So, what are you working on?"

I hesitated, glancing down at my notebook. The grocery list and scattered doodles seemed too mundane to mention, but he looked genuinely curious.

"Just. some notes," I said vaguely.

"Ah, mysterious," he teased. "I like it."

And then, before I knew it, we were talking. It was easy-trivial, even. He asked me about my favorite books, my favorite music, and whether I preferred dogs or cats. I learned that he loved bad puns, early mornings, and traveling to places he could never properly pronounce.

The conversation flowed like we'd known each other for years, not minutes.

When he finally stood up to leave, I felt this weird twinge of disappointment.

"Same time tomorrow?" he asked. I couldn't help but laugh at that.

"Maybe," I said, trying for nonchalant.

Of course I went the next day. And the day after that.

Our meetings became routine, each more natural than the last. He'd bring me a croissant when he knew I hadn't eaten, and I'd tease him about his habit of spilling coffee on his shirts. I found myself looking forward to those moments more than I cared to admit, the hours we spent together feeling like stolen pieces of a better life.

One afternoon, weeks into this unspoken rhythm, he leaned across the table and asked, "Want to go out sometime? Like, an actual date?"

I froze, surprised. "This isn't enough for you?" I teased, waving my hand to encompass the café around us.

He grinned. "I love the café, but I'd like to see you outside of it, too. No pressure, though.

I smiled, feeling something flutter inside me that I hadn't felt for quite some time. "I'd like that."

---

Our first date was, in short, a dream.

He took me to a park I had never visited, the walkways lined with string lights that twinkled against the dark sky. We strolled aimlessly, stopped at a small stall to share a cup of hot cocoa. It was bitterly cold outside but his presence made everything all right.

So, what's the most embarrassing thing you've ever done?" he asked as we sat on a bench, the cocoa warming my hands.

I laughed and shook my head. "Oh no, I'm not falling for that."

"Come on," he said, nudging me playfully. "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours.

I pretended to think about it, then sighed dramatically. "Fine. When I was in high school, I tried to serenade someone with a ukulele. It. did not go well."

He burst out laughing, the sound echoing in the quiet night. "That's amazing. Can you still play?"

"Absolutely not," I said, grinning. "Your turn."

He recall

He was so dreamy "So do yo u have boyfriemd?" He said

"No" i replied laughing