Scarlett
Autumn faded into winter, and Sweet Escape continued to flourish despite my lingering fears. Each morning, I’d pause before unlocking the café doors, half-expecting to see Finn’s silhouette through the glass, but he kept his word. He didn’t return.
Life returned to its usual routine – the hustle of morning commuters in need of their coffee, the calm of afternoon regulars working on their laptops, and the contentment of tallying up the day’s profits.
Sometimes, I could almost convince myself that his visit had been nothing more than a dream, if not for the way Ray still stirred restlessly on quiet evenings, searching for a scent that was no longer there.
“You know,” Alisha said one morning as we prepped for opening, her hands expertly weaving through the morning pastry routine
