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“I didn’t leave,” I start to explain. “I’m here. I’ll always be here for you, Zara.” I feel a pressing need to explain myself. I won’t let her walk away without knowing how I feel.
She turns to press her palm to my chest. The familiar move immediately calms me. “I know, Devon. I know.” She tips up on her toes and presses a gentle kiss on my lips. “I have one final cup for you.”
My heart races as she strides away. She steps behind the counter, and the door opens. Stacy and her friends stream through the doorway, filling the café. I turn to the sound of the coffee steamer whirling. Zara has her head down, preparing a final drink.
I hold my breath and wait.
She looks up, a short smile that melts my heart. It pounds against my ribcage as I take in the vision of this beautiful soul. She’s a vision from heaven, and I want her in my life.
I steal a glance at the line up of beverages on the table behind me. The history of us. We’ve come too far and have been throughtoo much for all of it not to mean something. Zara approaches, holding the cup awkwardly, one hand holding the saucer and the other holding another saucer, hovering about two inches above the top of the cup.
“You’re my future,” I blurt out the words before she reaches me. “Future you already knows. But I want you to hear it. Really hear it.” The smile on her face spreads, reaching from ear to ear. I wave toward the cups behind me. “You’re going to need a whole lot more stencils because this is just the start. You and I have a lifetime of memories ahead of us. I’m not going anywhere, Zara. I want you in my life.”
Her giggle fills the air. Her gaze locks on me as if there weren’t dozens of people staring at us right now. I’m the performer used to an audience, but she’s the calm one as if she’s already read the ending. And when she lifts the saucer top, I realize she has.
Her eyes twinkle with a mix of anticipation and something deeper. I glance down at the cup, and my breath catches in my throat. The final cup. The final stencil. The final message she’s constructed for me to see.
Two words, one image. The wordsIandyou.The image, one that tugs at my heartstrings, a perfectly formed heart.
I. Heart. You.
The simplicity of it is striking, yet it carries a weight that hits me right in the chest. My heart pounds as I stare at the latte, the message clear and undeniable. It’s more than just foam art; it’s an affirmation, a declaration that leaves me momentarily speechless.
I look up at Zara, and she’s watching me intently, her expression a mix of hope and vulnerability. The air between us feels charged, electric. I feel the sincerity behind her gesture, the courage it took to put her feelings out there so openly. The amount of trust needed for her to do this. I take none of it for granted.
“Zara…” I begin, my voice barely above a whisper. I swallow hard, trying to find the right words. “This…” Water wells in my eyes. She’s heard me all along. She sees me. Me. “I heart you, too,” I whisper.
She places the drink on the ledge next to the others, and I wrap my arms around her. She nestles into my chest; her welcoming warmth allows me to release a week-long breath I’ve been holding. She presses her chin to the center of my chest, looking up at me. She’s so beautiful. “From this day forth.”
Her words are the declaration I’ve been waiting for.
Our noses touch in an Eskimo kiss. “From this day forth,” I repeat the words. An affirmation and commitment rolled into one. I squeeze her tight. “To have and to hold.” Our lips are a mere inch from one another.
“Are you about to kiss me in middle of the café in front of the world? Remember, my sister is watching.” I hear the humor in her voice.
I nod. “I know. And I hope she’s taking notes to see what two people falling in love looks like when it’s real.”
The corner of her lip curls up—half smirk, half smile. “For real?”
I say the words that are unnecessary but warranted. “What we have will always be real.”
She’s the architecture of this evening. The mastermind, and for that, she gets the final word. The perfect ending. The final words before she presses her lips to mine. “For real. For love.”
***
Epilogue
Zara
“This way,” Devon slips his tender hand into mine and leads me down the narrow Coffee Loft corridor toward Mrs. Whitehead’s office. His chuckle gives away his intent. I’m not the only one offering up surprises today.
As we enter the office, I notice Mrs. Whitehead perched on the edge of her desk with a sly smile on her face. My eyes are immediately drawn to the brightly wrapped package with my name written in elegant script on top of it. “Oh my God,” I gasp, remembering the gift Devon had left with Mrs. Whitehead. His instructions for me not to open it until I hear back from the Magic and to do it in Mrs. Whitehead’s presence. The past few days have been a blur—from quitting my job to being offered a full design contract and planning a surprise party for Devon. “I can’t believe I forgot about this gift in all the chaos.”
Devon’s eyes sparkle mischievously as he stands next to Mrs. Whitehead. “You were a little busy,” Devon jokes. “This is actually better because now I get to see your reaction.”
I try to suppress a smile as she hands me a small box wrapped in gold and white. It was his departing gift, given after I had discovered his secret and asked him to leave. Now, standing in the office, I feel a mix of emotions as I hold the box in my hands. “Are you sure?” I float the half question in his direction. So much has changed between us since I asked him to leave. I have no idea what could be in the box and wonder if he has any second thoughts about it.
As I hesitantly unwrap the package, the sound of tearing paper fills the air. Underneath lies a rectangular box, about the size of a fancy watchcase. My heart pounds as I lift the lid and see a long, gold rectangle about two inches wide and six inches long. Devon nods at me encouragingly, and with trembling fingers, I gently lift it from the box.
