A coffee and a walk

It was nearly an hour before I heard the bedroom door open. I'd spent that time in a daze, sitting on the couch with my phone in my hand, the screen dark, my thumb hovering uselessly over the keypad. I had no idea how to start looking for the man. No name, no address, no connection except a coffee shop and a whisper.

I heard footsteps and looked up.

Emily emerged from the bedroom, dressed and ready for the afternoon. She wore a simple cream blouse tucked into high-waisted jeans, a denim jacket thrown over her shoulders, and a pair of white trainers. Her honey-brown hair was still slightly damp from the shower, falling in soft waves around her face. A touch of lip gloss. A hint of mascara.

She looked beautiful. She looked normal. She looked like the Emily I'd fallen in love with two years ago.

"Okay, ready!" she announced, slinging a small crossbody bag over her shoulder. "Oh, I sent today's video to Marcus. He said my form was really good, especially the hip drive on the final set. Just need to work on keeping my back straighter during the transition."

My stomach clenched. I forced a smile. "Great. That's... great."

She beamed at me, completely oblivious to the knot her words had tied in my gut. I thought about her on all fours, the camera aimed at her dripping pussy, the dildo sliding in and out. And Marcus, wherever he was, watching it on his phone. Giving feedback on her form.

"Cool," I said, standing up. "So when's your next session with him?"

Emily's face scrunched in mock pain. "Monday at six AM." She groaned. "I know, I know, it's brutal. But he says early morning sessions are better for building discipline. And honestly? He's been right about everything so far. I've never been in better shape."

"Right," I said, my voice hollow. "Ready to go? I thought we could grab some coffees first."

Her face lit up. "Ooh, yes. I could use a pick-me-up after that workout."

We walked out of the apartment together, her hand finding mine as we descended the stairs. She chatted about the afternoon - the movie she'd seen advertised, a new restaurant that had opened near the park, something funny Sarah had said at work. Normal things. Ordinary things.

I nodded and made noises in the right places, but my mind was elsewhere. Specifically, it was at The Daily Grind.

I don't know if I consciously chose to take us there. The route was familiar, habitual. We'd been there a hundred times together. But as we rounded the corner and the cafe came into view, I felt my pulse quicken.

I half-expected to see him. The man in the worn-out jacket. Standing by the sugar station, stirring his dark coffee. Or sitting at a table by the window, his bottomless eyes fixed on me.

The cafe was busy but not packed. I scanned every face as we pushed through the door. The man at the counter, tapping his credit card. The woman checking her phone at a corner table. The barista wiping down the steam wand. The elderly couple sharing a scone.

Nothing. No worn-out jacket. No dark eyes. No cold whisper.

"Let's grab a table," I said, my voice coming out a little too quickly. "Sit down. Enjoy the atmosphere."

Emily looked at me, a slight tilt to her head. "Sure. I don't mind." She stepped up to the counter and placed her order. "Large vanilla latte with oat milk, please. And extra cream."

She said it with a smile, like it was just a normal request. The barista nodded and tapped it in. I ordered a black coffee, my eyes still scanning.

We found a table by the window. Emily sat facing me, her back to the cafe. I sat facing the door, my eyes flicking to every new customer who walked in.

"So," she said, wrapping her hands around her cup when it arrived, "what should we do first? Walk around the park? Hit the shops? I saw a poster for that new rom-com with the girl from that show we used to watch - you know, the one about the bakery?"

"Mm," I said, my eyes on the door.

"I think it's playing at the Regal. Showtimes are probably, like, three and six." She took a sip of her latte, the foam leaving a faint white mustache on her upper lip, which she wiped away with the back of her hand. "Mmm. Extra cream was a good call."

"Mm," I said again. A man in a blue coat had just walked in. Too tall. Wrong build.

Emily set her cup down. "Babe."

"Mm?"

"Scott."

I blinked and looked at her. She was watching me with a mixture of amusement and concern, her head tilted, her eyes searching my face.

"You're not listening to a word I'm saying, are you?"

I opened my mouth to protest, but the words died in my throat. She was right. I wasn't. I'd been so focused on scanning the cafe, on hoping to find the man, that I'd completely checked out of the conversation.

"Sorry," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. "Just... distracted. Long week."

Her expression softened. "It's okay. I know work's been stressful." She reached across the table and took my hand, her thumb stroking my knuckles. "Let's just enjoy the afternoon, yeah?"

I looked at her. Really looked at her. The warmth in her eyes. The gentle curve of her smile. The way her hair fell across her cheek. For a moment, she was just Emily. My Emily. The woman I loved.

"Yeah," I said, squeezing her hand. "Let's do that." I forced myself to stop scanning the cafe. The man wasn't coming. Not today. I could try again tomorrow. I could come back alone, ask the baristas if they knew him, try to find some trace of his existence. But right now, I had an afternoon with my girlfriend.

I took a sip of my coffee. It was bitter. I didn't mind.

We finished our coffees and left, stepping out into the cool afternoon air. The sun had broken through the clouds properly now, casting long shadows across the pavement. Emily took my hand again, and we walked.

The river path was quiet. A few joggers. A woman pushing a stroller. An elderly man sitting on a bench, feeding breadcrumbs to a cluster of pigeons. The water lapped gently against the stone bank, sunlight glittering off its surface like scattered diamonds.

We walked in comfortable silence for a while, her hand in mine, the tension slowly bleeding out of my shoulders. This felt normal. This felt right. The gentle rhythm of our footsteps, the soft rustle of leaves overhead, the distant hum of traffic muffled by the trees.

"You know what I love about this?" Emily said, her voice soft.

"What?"

"This." She gestured vaguely at the river, the trees, the sky. "Just being outside. With you. No phones, no deadlines, no workouts." She laughed. "Well, I already did my workout. So just the rest of it."

I smiled. A real smile, not the forced one I'd been wearing all week. "Me too."

We passed a bus stop, its shelter plastered with posters. One caught Emily's eye - a bright, colorful advertisement for a romantic comedy, featuring two attractive actors in a clearly contrived but charming embrace.

"Oh!" She stopped, tugging on my hand. "That's the one I was telling you about! Love at the Bakery. It looks so cute." She turned to me, her eyes bright. "Can we go? Please? I need a good, fluffy, predictable rom-com in my life right now."

I looked at the poster. At her face. Her pleading eyes.

"Okay," I smiled. "Let's go see it."

Her face lit up. She threw her arms around me and hugged me tight, her face pressed into my chest. "Yes! Thank you! I promise you can pick the next one. Even if it's, like, a three-hour documentary about industrial fishing."

"I’ll hold you to it" I laughed.

She pulled back, still smiling, and we continued walking toward the movie theater, her hand in mine, the afternoon stretching ahead of us. For the first time in days, I let myself believe that everything would be okay. That we’d get through whatever this phase was. I’d figure it out, find a way.

I wanted to believe it.