Chapter 9
When I was younger, I used to dream about this place. A quiet corner of the world that smelled like dark roast and sugar, where people could come and go, and I’d always have a seat waiting for them. Back then, I’d scribble menus in the margins of my old school notebooks, adding silly names for drinks and pastries I’d never baked.
But that dream had been laughed at. My father scoffed the first time I mentioned it – A coffee shop? Really, Chloe? You can’t even make a decent cup without burning it. Then Clinton – I remember how his jaw tightened, how his eyes grew cold when I’d dared to bring it up in those first months of our marriage.
“A waste of money,” he’d said, pouring himself a glass of wine while I tried to explain. “You don’ need to play house with strangers. Just stay home. Be my wife. I’ll worry about the rest.”
And I’d thought that was love
–
that being told to stay meant I was cherished. It was only later that I realized what it really meant: I was easier to control when I had nothing that was truly nine.
–
—
reminded me every morning that I was free
But this place this tiny café on a sleepy street now. That my dreams didn’t have to be big to be worth chasing.
—
Nathan had made it all so easy – the permits, the renovations, the gentle way he let me choose the paint for the walls and the pastries for the menu. He didn’t push, didn’t hover he just stood
here, handing me samples and sipping whatever coffee I brewed, even the burnt ones.
‘You’re not bad at this,” he’d tease, lips curling into that half-smile that made him look like the Joy I’d met in high school. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
‘Not bad yet,” I’d shoot back, bumping his shoulder as I leaned over the counter. “Give me a month and I’ll be better than you.”
‘Oh, I have no doubt.” He’d lean in closer then, his breath warm against my ear. “I’ve always <nown you’d be better at anything you set your mind to, Chloe.”
And it was that simple, silly confidence that made me feel like maybe this life could really be
nine.
n the evenings, when the café closed and the sign flipped to See you tomorrow!, Nathan would bull me into the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves to help me wipe down the counters. He was opeless with a mop – somehow managing to spill more water than he cleaned but we’d augh until my stomach ached.
–
Once, he smeared whipped cream across my nose, just because he said I looked too serious counting the day’s earnings. I shrieked, launching a handful back at him until the kitchen looked ike a dessert war zone.
t was silly, messy – human. And I hadn’t felt so human in so long.
Days turned into weeks, and every morning I’d wake up in Nathan’s warm house, press my fingers to my lips, and remind myself: You chose this. You chose him. You chose you.
And for the first time in my life, that choice didn’t feel like a sin.
One night, after we closed up the café, Nathan told me not to go upstairs yet. He had “one more thing” to do. I didn’t argue – just leaned on the counter, watching him with my chin propped in
my hand.
He moved around the café like he owned the place – because technically, he did. But somehow, he never made me feel like I owed him for it. He just… gave.
When he finally turned back, there was a small velvet box in his palm. He didn’t bother to hide it behind his back or get down on one knee right away he just held it out, his eyes dancing.
–
“I know it’s late,” he said. “And I know you probably think this is too soon, but-”
“Nathan…” My throat went tight. “What are you doing?”
–
“I’m doing what I should’ve done back then,” he said, voice rougher than I’d ever heard it. “Back when I told you I loved you behind the gym. Back when I waited for you to choose me
and you
didn’t. I want you to choose me now.”
He flipped open the box. A simple ring. No fuss, no diamonds the size of my regrets. Just a promise – his promise.
But all I could do was laugh, watery and soft. “Nathan, you don’t have to do this. You gave me the café. This is enough. You don’t have to-”
He stepped closer, his brows furrowing. “Do you still think this is a business transaction? Do you really think that low of me?”
I looked away, shame tightening around my ribs. “It’s not that. I just… I’m not ready for forever I’m scared, Nathan. I don’t want to hurt you. What if I do? What if I break this, too?”
He cupped my face in his warm, calloused hands. “Then break it. Break me. I’d rather be your rebound than nothing at all, Chloe. That’s how much I want you.”
A soft laugh tumbled from my lips, breaking through the tightness in my chest. “That’s a terrible line, you know.”
‘Yeah, but it’s true.” His grin was boyish, hopeful. “So how about you stop thinking for once and ust say yes?”
swiped at a tear with the back of my hand, my voice shaking as I whispered, “As if I have a
choice.”
–
He pulled me in then, pressing his forehead to mine, our laughter muffled between soft kisses like and shaky breaths. The ring slipped onto my finger like it had always belonged there maybe my life hadn’t been wasted after all.
4:26 pm
