A Sip Of Love

5

Chapter 5:

It had been a few days since the conversation in the coffee shop, and Raya hadn’t expected it to stay with her the way it did. Every time she walked in, she felt a little more at ease, as if the weight of her thoughts was just a little lighter. But today was different.

The moment she stepped through the door, something felt off. She couldn’t pinpoint it—maybe it was the gray clouds hanging low outside, or maybe it was the quiet ache in her chest that had been building all week, something she couldn’t ignore any longer.

She hesitated for a moment at the counter, watching Travis work. His hands moved steadily, like he was in his element, but something in the way he glanced over at her made her feel seen in a way that made her want to shrink back, just for a moment.

“Raya,” he said, his tone warm but perceptive. “You’re quiet today.”

She gave him a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m fine,” she said, though the words felt hollow even to her. “Just... one cappuccino, please.”

Travis didn’t push, but she could tell he wasn’t convinced. His gaze lingered for a second longer than usual, and then he nodded, setting to work on her order.

Raya moved to the window seat, like she always did, trying to settle into the quiet of the space. The usual background noise of coffee grinders, clinking cups, and soft conversations should have been soothing—but today, it felt distant. Like she was in the wrong place, even though she knew she wasn’t.

She stared out at the rain, watching the droplets race each other down the window. Each drop felt like a little echo of her own emotions—nothing clear, just a blur of things that couldn’t quite settle.

The cup of coffee was placed gently in front of her before she realized it, and when she looked up, Travis was standing there, his brow slightly furrowed, his hands resting on the counter.

“Here you go. I made it extra foamy today.” His tone was light, but there was a softness in his eyes, like he knew something was off, even if she didn’t know how to say it yet.

“Thanks,” she said, her voice quiet. Her fingers wrapped around the warmth of the cup, but it wasn’t enough to chase away the sudden cold creeping through her chest.

She felt the tears before she even realized they were coming. It wasn’t like the sobs of anger or frustration. It wasn’t even the kind of crying that felt like it would break her into pieces. It was the kind of tears that came from being tired—tired of carrying everything alone, tired of pretending that she had it all together when all she wanted was to feel seen.

It was a simple thing. She wasn’t ready for it. She didn’t expect it to happen here, in the coffee shop where everything had been calm, a place where she’d found a small sense of peace. But the tears came, slowly at first, a quiet sting at the corner of her eyes, and then, before she could stop them, they slipped down her cheeks.

Raya didn’t want anyone to notice. She didn’t want to be that person—the one who couldn’t keep it together. She quickly swiped at her eyes, but it was no use. The feeling of loss, of being untethered, of having no solid ground beneath her... it was all too much today.

"Raya..."

Travis’s voice was gentle, but it carried with it a quiet concern. She didn’t know what to say, so she just shook her head, trying to keep the tears from coming any faster, but it was like the floodgates had opened and she couldn’t close them.

She opened her mouth to speak, but the words tangled in her throat. Instead, she just looked up at him, a mix of frustration and helplessness written across her face.

Without a word, Travis pulled the chair beside her out and sat down, his presence calm and steady. It wasn’t an awkward gesture, nor did it feel like he was trying to fix anything. He just sat there, his shoulders a little closer than they had been before, like he was simply saying, I’m here.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice barely a whisper, her throat tight. “I don’t mean to—”

“You don’t have to apologize,” he interrupted softly. His voice was low, carrying the kind of warmth that settled around her, like a blanket she hadn’t known she needed. “Sometimes... it just all hits at once. And that's okay.”

She took a shaky breath, trying to regain some composure, but the tears didn’t stop. Instead, they kept coming, slow and steady, as if the dam inside her had finally broken.

For a long moment, there was nothing but the soft hum of the shop, the gentle clink of cups in the background, and the steady presence of Travis sitting quietly beside her. He didn’t say anything more. He didn’t try to rush her or comfort her with words. He just sat there, as if offering her space to feel whatever it was she needed to feel.

She didn’t know how long it took, but eventually, the tears began to slow. Raya sniffed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, embarrassed, but not nearly as mortified as she might have been if it were anyone else.

Travis handed her a napkin, his gaze steady but not intrusive, his hand never quite leaving the table, but giving her enough room to find her footing again.

“Hey,” he said gently, when she looked up at him. “You’re okay. Whatever you’re feeling... it’s okay.”

Raya let out a shaky breath, feeling a knot loosen in her chest. There was something so simple about his presence. He wasn’t offering grand advice or trying to pull her out of her sadness. He was just there, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she didn’t feel like she had to hold it all in.

“I don’t know why I... I just... I don’t know how to keep doing this sometimes,” she said, her voice small. “I thought I’d be fine by now. I thought I’d be over it. But some days, it still feels... too much.”

“It’s okay,” Travis said softly. “Healing isn’t a straight line, Raya. It’s messy. And it takes time. You don’t have to have it all figured out. You’re not alone in this.”

Her throat tightened again, but this time it was different. There was no sharp pain, just a kind of quiet release, like she had been holding on to something too tightly for too long. And now, she was allowed to let go.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her eyes meeting his. She didn’t know how to express everything she was feeling, but in this moment, that simple acknowledgment felt like enough.

Travis gave her a small, comforting smile. “Anytime,” he said, his voice steady, like this was just another part of his day. But to her, it felt like a kindness that was more than she had expected from anyone.

And maybe, just maybe, that was all she needed today.