I Loved You Even You Left

A Thousand Little Moments

Sunday mornings with Liam became my favorite kind of ritual.

The café was quieter on Sundays, with soft music playing in the background and only a handful of regulars scattered across the tables. Liam always arrived a little later than me, his hair messier than usual, and he'd greet me with a grin that made my heart skip every single time.

"Good morning, Ellie," he'd say, sliding into the seat across from me. He'd plop down a croissant or a muffin without asking if I wanted it.

"You're just assuming I'm hungry?" I teased one morning, holding up the croissant he had delivered.

"You're always hungry," he said with a shrug, biting into his own chocolate chip muffin. "And I know you never remember to eat breakfast."

I rolled my eyes, but my cheeks burned with a warmth I couldn't hide. He was right, of course.

Our conversations were never forced; they had a rhythm I couldn't explain. One moment we'd be talking about something light-his latest attempt at cooking ("I almost burned down the kitchen making spaghetti")-and the next we'd stumble into something deeper.

"What scares you the most?" he asked once, catching me off guard.

I blinked, stiring my coffee absently as I tried to think of an answer. "That's a heavy question for a Sunday morning."

"I know," he said, leaning back in his chair with a teasing grin. "But you can't dodge it now.

I hesitated, my fingers tracing the edge of my mug. "I guess. idea of being alone. Not just physically but emotionally. Like what if one day, I wake up and realize I've been going through life without anyone really knowing me?"

He ceased smiling and looked at me seriously, softer in his expression. "I don't think that'll happen to you, Ellie. You don't seem like the kind of person who hides.

I laughed, shaking my head. "You'd be surprised."

He didn't press further, but the look he gave me lingered, like he was trying to memorize me in that moment.

---

Outside the café, life with Liam was just as bright.

A few weeks after our first date, he took me to the local farmer's market. The air smelled fresh, like bread and lavender, and the stalls were packed with people browsing handmade candles and jars of honey.
"This is my favorite place in the world," he said holding up a jar of orange marmalade like it was a rare treasure.
"You like marmalade that much?" I teased.

"Not just the marmalade," he said, grinning. "I like the vibe. People smiling, wandering around with nowhere to be. It feels. simple, you know?"

I didn't answer back right away, distracted by the way his face lit up as he spoke. He looked at everything like it was new, like the world was a place full of endless possibilities. It was contagious.

He was a big bag of sourdough bread, a bunch of sunflowers, and a bag of cherries to which he insisted we eat while we walked.

"Try this one," he said, holding a cherry to my lips.

I laughed but let him feed it to me, the sweetness bursting on my tongue. "Okay, I'll admit it-this is fun.

"See? I told you," he said triumphantly, popping a cherry into his own mouth. "Stick with me, Ellie. I'll make a believer out of you."

And he did.

---

There was something about Liam that made the ordinary feel extraordinary.

We spent lazy afternoons walking through the park, sitting on benches and watching the world go by. He'd point out clouds that looked like animals, insisting one particularly amorphous blob was "obviously" a dragon.
"You have no imagination," he said, laughing when I squinted at the sky and shook my head.
"And you have too much," I shot back.

Though I pretended to dislike it, secretly I loved how his mind worked, things he could see beauty in where I might pass over without noticing.

One evening, he took me to an old bookstore he'd discovered. The place smelled like dust and paper, and the shelves were packed so tightly it felt like stepping into another world.

"This place is amazing," I whispered, running my fingers over the spines of the books.

"Right?" he said quietly. "It's like a treasure hunt. You never know what you're gonna find."

He wandered off, leaving me to explore on my own. I found him twenty minutes later, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a stack of books beside him.

"Find anything good?" I asked.

Only the best," he said, holding up a battered copy of The Little Prince. "This was my favorite book as a kid. Ever read it?"

I shook my head.

"Then it's yours," he said, handing it to me.

I hesitated. "Liam, you don't have to-"

"I want to," he said firmly. "Everyone should read this book at least once."

I took it, my fingers brushing his for a moment. "Thank you," I said softly.

His eyes met mine, and for a second, it felt like the whole world had gone still.

---

That was how it was with Liam-a thousand little moments, each one carving out a space for him in my heart.

I didn't realize how much he'd become a part of my life until the first time he missed one of our Sunday mornings.

I sat alone at the café, watching the door for his unremarkable entrance-a crooked grin, always a little too loud with his laughter-but he didn't come. A strange ache settled in my chest.

It was late afternoon when he texted me to apologize for oversleeping. He's an easy apology, or so I'd thought until now.

"It's okay," I said, trying to sound nonchalant. "See you next time?"

"Definitely," he responded.

And he came the next time and the time after that.

What I didn't know then was as I laughed at his jokes and memorized the way his hand felt in mine that every moment with Liam was a moment I would have to let go of sometime.

But for now, it was enough.

For now, it was perfect.