“C’mon, let’s go. It’s just coffee.”

I urged her. A new coffee shop had opened up a few blocks away, and I was dying of coffee-thirst. Plus, I had heard the owner was something of a heart throb already. But she didn’t budge.

“You know I don’t drink coffee anymore” she grumbled.

I knew. And I wish I didn’t.

It was twelve years ago. My sister was back in high school then, brimming with newfound love. She and her footballer boyfriend had been the talk of the school. In those days, that was a big deal.

They had met at a game and had become friends, just like a movie of the 90s. And every day since then, they ran into each other in the same coffee shop. Their addiction to caffeine led them to an addiction to each other.

He had made her laugh, shared stories, listened to her at dinner, and had declared his love before graduation.

She had accepted.

All was well until he had to leave.

No one knew why, but he met her in the same coffee shop. She had been expecting him with her espresso and his latte.

He made it short, and impassive. It wouldn’t work out between them, he had said and walked away. She never finished that espresso.

---

“That was years ago,” I moped. I was beginning to get tired of her aversion — it dampened my enthusiasm. “Can’t you get over it?”

Even as I said the words, I knew it was a tough ask.

But she smiled. “Ok. Just once — for you.” She smiled wider. “Perhaps I’ll get myself a latte.”

I didn’t complain. Before she changed her mind, I ushered her across the street and entered the house of roasted joe. I drank the scent through my nostrils and captured the beauty of the mellow brownish paint and faint yellow light.

We sat at a table near a wall studded with graffiti. I was still looking around and my sister at the menu, when a man walked up to our table. He was tall with firm muscles and the walk of an athlete. “Smart guy,” I whispered to my sister.

Before she could look up, he spoke to her, “I thought you’d never come.”

---

Inspiration: Today’s Author.

Four years ago, her grandmother advised her to be patient. She clung to those words for comfort when one by one, all her friends sent her their wedding invitations.

Her eyes would swell when she looked at the cards she had helped design, print, and distribute. That’s all she got to do. While her friends stressed out, threw up, or got cold feet, she’d be running about talking to the florist, bargaining with the caterer, and tasting cake.

It was fun at first. But soon it got real. She had been the “best friend” for 21 of her friends, friends who were classmates, colleagues, and some even neighbours.

She met hundreds of men, best men, drunk men, well-dressed men, and ones with goatees too. But despite all that, she went home alone after every wedding.

“When love comes your way, you’ll know it’s here to stay.” Her grandmother had told her. And that old woman had the love of her life for 65 years before grandpa passed. And if she said wait, she’d wait.

And now,  she had an appointment with the hairdresser in half hour. Her high school classmate was to be married in two days. Wondering about the bus schedule, she drained the last of her espresso. Before she could get up from the couch, however, her 5-year-old brown terrier leapt onto her lap, his coin-like black eyes looking into hers. She smiled. “See you soon, love.”