A Sip Of Love

4

Chapter 4:

The days had begun to blend together in a way that felt comforting. For the first time in months, Raya didn’t mind the passing of time. She found herself looking forward to the simple rhythm of her mornings at the coffee shop—how the air would smell like cinnamon and espresso, how Travis’s smile would greet her like it was the most natural thing in the world.

It was Friday, and the weather outside had taken on that crisp, late autumn chill. The kind of cold that made you want to pull on an oversized sweater and wrap your hands around a warm cup of coffee. Inside, the coffee shop was bustling with its usual mix of regulars, but there was a quiet sense of calm that seemed to settle over Raya every time she crossed the threshold.

Today was different, though.

As usual, Travis greeted her with a smile. “Morning, Raya. The usual?”

Raya nodded, offering a soft smile of her own. “Yeah, please. You know me too well.”

“Just doing my job,” he said with a wink, already moving to prepare her cappuccino.

But as he worked, something felt different. The quiet hum of the shop, the clink of cups and spoons, seemed to fade into the background as her thoughts turned inward. She wasn’t sure why, but there was a heaviness in her chest she hadn’t quite been able to shake all morning. It wasn’t new, but today it felt sharper, more pressing.

She moved to the small table by the window as usual, but this time, she didn’t immediately open her book or start scrolling through her phone. She just sat there, staring out at the street, lost in thought.

Travis had finished her drink and was wiping down the counter when he caught sight of her, her posture slumped slightly, her gaze distant. He seemed to notice the shift, something different in the air between them. Without a word, he grabbed the cup and walked over to her table, setting it down in front of her with a soft clink.

“This one’s on the house,” he said quietly, sitting down across from her without asking.

Raya looked up at him, startled for a moment by the gesture, then let out a soft breath, the weight in her chest tightening. “I didn’t mean to be so... distant,” she said, her voice quieter than she intended.

“No need to explain,” Travis replied, his voice steady and kind. “I can tell when something’s on your mind. You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready.”

For a moment, Raya said nothing. The truth was, she had no idea how to explain the mess inside her. How to explain how every day felt like a reminder of what she’d lost, of what she hadn’t yet found. She wasn’t ready to spill every detail—there were parts of her past she hadn’t yet come to terms with, parts of herself she hadn’t yet figured out. But in the quiet stillness of the moment, with Travis’s easy presence at her side, something inside her stirred.

“I’ve just been thinking a lot,” she said finally, her fingers tracing the rim of her coffee cup. “About... everything. You know, life after the divorce.”

Travis didn’t press. He simply nodded, his eyes watching her with the quiet patience of someone who didn’t need her to speak just to understand. “It’s a lot to process,” he said. “I get that.”

“I thought I had it all figured out,” she continued, a small, humorless laugh escaping her lips. “I thought marriage was supposed to be this thing that—” She stopped herself, unsure of how to finish the thought. How could she explain the betrayal, the way everything had unraveled so quickly?

“Last year, I didn’t even think about being alone,” she added quietly. “I thought... Michael and I would grow old together. Maybe we’d travel, buy a house, do the whole ‘happily ever after’ thing.” Her voice trailed off, and she swallowed, feeling that familiar ache in her throat.

She felt Travis’s gaze on her, not with pity or sympathy, but with a kind of understanding that made the words come a little easier.

“Do you still believe in that?” he asked softly, leaning forward slightly. “The whole ‘happily ever after’ thing?”

She paused, surprised by the question. She hadn’t really thought about that part of herself—what she still believed in, or if she still believed in anything at all. She had been so focused on surviving that she hadn’t stopped to think about wanting anything, let alone a future that felt good.

“I don’t know,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “I think I want to. But... I’ve been so scared of letting anyone in again. Michael wasn’t just my husband. He was my best friend. And when he left... it felt like he took everything with him.”

Her hands tightened around the cup, the warmth of it grounding her, but the rawness of her words felt like a slow burn in her chest. It wasn’t a pain she could easily put into words, but somehow, with Travis sitting there, just listening, it didn’t feel quite as heavy as it usually did.

“You’re allowed to be scared,” Travis said gently, his voice carrying the kind of sincerity that made her want to believe him. “You’ve been through a lot, and sometimes it takes a while to figure out how to move forward. But that doesn’t mean you’re alone in it.”

Raya felt a lump in her throat. She hadn’t expected to say all of this, and certainly hadn’t expected to feel heard in a way that made her feel lighter, even for just a moment. She hadn’t realized how much she needed to say these words—how much she needed to share that she wasn’t okay, but that she was trying to be.

“I don’t want to stay stuck,” she said softly, looking down at the coffee in her hands. “But I don’t know how to move on. How do you even start?”

Travis’s smile was small, but it carried a quiet warmth that she found comforting. “You start by doing things that make you feel... like you again. Little things. Like sitting here, with a cup of coffee, talking about your life. And giving yourself permission to feel what you feel. It’s okay if it takes time. There’s no rush.”

She nodded, a small sigh escaping her as she leaned back in her chair. Maybe it was his words, or maybe it was the comfort of his presence, but for the first time in a long time, Raya felt the smallest flicker of hope.

“Thanks,” she said quietly, her gaze lifting to meet his.

Travis gave her a soft, understanding smile. “Anytime, Raya.”

As she took another sip of her cappuccino, the warmth from the drink spread through her, but it wasn’t just the coffee that made her feel anchored. It was the feeling that, for the first time in a long time, someone was listening—not out of obligation, but out of genuine care.

And maybe that was the start of something she hadn’t been expecting—a feeling of being heard, of being seen again.