Page 74 of A Coffee Away

She hugged her laptop to her chest and took her lactose-free cappuccino. “You know…love always finds its way back.”

I widened my eyes. How did she know? I followed her retreating figure as another customer approached the counter.

I shook my head to serve her.

The bell at the top of the door clanged. Weekdays were always busy, especially this early.

“Excuse me?” A hooded figure entered the shop as I turned to prepare an order of five lattes.

“I’ll get it.” Gaby patted my shoulder.

“Hi. Can I have a quesito and an oat-milk mocha?”

I stilled. My heart’s crescendo burst to my ears.

I turned my head toward the counter. He took off his hoodie as Gabrielle moved to get his quesito. He brushed his sandy-blond hair back. His face was clean-shaven, his black glasses fixed over his honey-brown eyes as he studied the room.

The world came to a full stop.

His sharp jawline. His soft skin. His full lips. He’d lost weight, but it was evident he’d been working out by how his arms filled his hoodie.

When his eyes were about to reach mine, I grabbed Gaby’s arm and pulled her into the break room.

She shrieked, but I had to tell her before she saw him.

“Robbie…” was all I managed to say as I held both her shoulders. “He’s here.”

“What?” Gaby tried to escape my grip. “The hoodie guy?” She peeked out and froze. She turned back to me. “I didn’t see his face. There was something about his voice, but I never imagined.”

“You can’t tell him.” My voice broke. My heart also. “We must act as if we don’t know him.”

“But…” Her eyes glazed as she looked out the blue curtains that separated us from the counter. “But he’s here.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and closed my eyes for a second, pushing away the urge to run out there and take him in my arms. “You know what the doctor told me. It’s up to him.” My mind was a whirlwind of emotions, but one was above them all—hope. “He found his way here. That means he remembers something. Please. Promise you won’t tell him.”

For a second, I feared she’d go out there and tell him, but then she smiled as a tear escaped her eye. “I won’t say anything.”

I exhaled. The tension in my arms eased as I let go of her shoulders. I bit my lip as the curtain flowed open for a second and his eyes met mine. “Fuck.”

Gaby wiped a rogue tear from my cheek. “We’ll watch him. See his reaction when he sees you.”

I squeezed her hand. “Thank you.”

She ruffled my hair, then patted my arm. “Clean your face. I’ll get his order and finish yours. When you’re ready, come out.”

He was here. It was all I hoped for. To see him again. For Robbie to find his way back to me. And he did.

It took me ten minutes to pull myself together and walk out of the back room.

My heart stilled as he sipped his coffee, his stare set on his book.

My chest was about to burst open. It was my book. The one I wrote for him during the coma. The bookmark I’d left inside lay next to the plate with the quesito, the one pastry for which he’d risk a morning in the bathroom.

I chuckled, and the room froze. It was less than a second, but when our eyes held each other, my whole body warmed, and I was no longer empty. I was home.

It had become Robbie’s routine to come in every day. He’d order a new coffee each day, sit at the same table by the window, open his book, and pretend he was reading while he sent furtive glances my way.

And all the while I had to control the urge to run to him, hold him in my arms, blurt out everything we meant to each other, and take him to our home to show him exactly how much I missed him. Keeping everything inside was fast becoming unbearable, but there was no other way. I’d wait for him to take the first step, then make him fall in love with me all over again.