The Coffee and the Rain

It is raining. And here I am, alone, sipping my favorite coffee while gazing at the people who come and go from this shop; just like me, they use the rain as an excuse to drink hot coffees.

This day should have been blissful. I met with him to celebrate our first anniversary, but instead of him saying happy anniversary, he said: “I think we should end this.”

“Is this a joke?” I asked.

“No… Victoria, I’m sorry. I saw Len yesterday and—”

“She left you two years ago.”

“I know… I’m sorry.”

And he walked out, just like that. Shocked. Hurt. But I cannot cry. I tried, but I just can’t. I started to walk when it started drizzling and when I saw this shop, I stopped by. I cannot go inside because this is where I first met him. But when the drizzle started to become a heavy rain, I had to go inside and order.

It was raining. It was raining hard just like this when I first met him. He approached me and said: “May I join you?”

I looked around and saw that there were no vacant chairs so I said, “Of course.”

Then we started talking. He talked about Len leaving him that day. Then, we started seeing each other after that day.

It is still raining. My coffee is already cold.

“May I join you?” somebody asked.

“Huh?” I looked up. A guy is smiling at me.

“There’s no other vacant chair but this… so, may I join you?”

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