IN A MORNING
ISABELLA
I woke up with the violent clarity of someone who remembered everything. The restaurant, the hand kiss, the roses, and the message. I stared at my ceiling, eyes wide, soul buffering in shock and fear.
"No." I whispered to absolutely no one. "That did not happen."
My phone buzzed, I didn't touch it. It buzzed again as I rolled onto my side like a dramatic Victorian child. Another buzz I sighed and grabbed it.
"Good morning, Bella."Xavier sent me a message.
I dropped the phone onto my face.
"WHY." I demanded of the universe, muffled by fabric. "Are you like this."
I uncovered the screen cautiously.
"I hope you slept well. The roses arrive at nine."Xavier sent me another message.
My body sat up before my brain approved.
"NINE?" I croaked.
I checked the time. It was 7:41. I screamed into my pillow again, shorter this time, more resigned. I reached the cafe as the bell jingled at exactly 8:28. Of course it did. I was mid wiping the counter, hair still slightly damp, apron crooked, running entirely on caffeine and denial. Michael looked up first.
"Oh no." He whispered.
"What."I asked and froze.
The door opened, and a man in a crisp black uniform stepped inside, holding a single long stemmed rose. Deep red, perfect and menacing.
"Delivery for Isabella." He said.
Every head turned as I felt my soul attempt to climb out through my mouth.
"That's me." I said weakly.
"Why do you look like you're being summoned to court?"Michael leaned over the counter.
The man handed me the rose with professional solemnity and left like this happened every day. Silence.
"Oh." Wanessa's voice drifted from my left.
I slowly turned as she sat at the corner table, coffee already in hand, eyes glittering with malicious joy.
"Oh?" I repeated.
"One rose." She said thoughtfully. "Not a bouquet. Intentional, personal, bold but restrained."
"I hate you." I muttered.
She stood, walked over, and inspected the rose like an art critic.
"He's pacing himself." She added. "Smart man."
"Why does it feel like I am watching a villain origin story."Michael squinted.
"It is romantic." Wanessa corrected. "For him."
My phone buzzed in my apron pocket. I didn't even look. Wanessa did.
"Check it." She urged sweetly. "I insist."
I pulled it out.
"I didn't want to overwhelm you. Just a reminder."Xavier sent me a message.
A reminder of WHAT. MY MORTALITY??? My face burned.
"HE TEXTED TOO?"Michael gasped dramatically.
"He always texts too." Wanessa said smugly. "Consistency is very attractive."
"I am going to pass out in the pastry case." I said flatly.
"Please don't." Michael said. "Health code."
"Is that the girl who gets roses every day?"Ten minutes later, another customer whispered loudly.
Every. Day. Wanessa leaned against the counter beside me.
"So." She said casually. "How does it feel knowing Xavier Stoneheart wakes up and chooses you?"
I stared at the rose.
"I want to escape the city." I said. "Legally."
She laughed, bright and delighted.
"Oh Bella." She teased. "You wanted a quiet life." She patted my shoulder. "And instead." She added. "You caught the attention of the most persistent man in the narrative."
The bell jingled again. Michael flinched.
"If that's another rose, I am calling someone."I said.
It wasn't, but my phone buzzed again.
"I'll see you later."Xavier sent yet another message.
I closed my eyes. Wanessa sipped her coffee.
"This." She said pleasantly. "Is going to be so fun."
I opened my eyes, horrified.
"For who." I asked. "Because it is not me."
She smiled.
"We'll see."Wanessa teased.
The cafe was alive in that low, constant way that meant too many customers and not enough me. Steam hissed, cups clinked, comeone argued with Michael about oat milk like it was a personal betrayal. I stood behind the counter, apron on, rose in a glass of water, very deliberately turned away from public view.
"Next." I said.
A woman stepped up, phone already in hand.
"Hi! One iced latte, extra caramel, half sweet, light ice."She said.
"Of course." I replied automatically, hands moving on muscle memory alone.
"You are on autopilot."Michael leaned over.
"I am dissociating professionally." I muttered.
The latte went out. The next customer slid forward.
"Americano."He said.
"Coming up."I said.
The bell jingled, and a couple came in. Then three students. Then someone who smelled like rain and impatience. I was just reaching for another cup when I heard a voice.
"Miss?"Someone called.
I looked up. A man in a suit stood at the counter. Not that suit, normal suit, civilian suit. Thank every god.
"Yes?"I asked.
"I think this is yours." He gestured behind me.
I turned and the rose was visible. My soul left my body again.
"Oh-" I grabbed the glass too fast, sloshing water onto the counter. "No, that's, thank you."
"Lucky someone."The man smiled politely.
I forced a smile back.
"Debatable."I said.
Michael snorted as the line moved. Orders kept coming. For ten blessed minutes, nothing happened. Then Wanessa appeared again for the second time today beside the counter like she had been summoned by narrative imbalance. She wasn't in work clothes. She was dressed casually, coat draped just right, holding nothing but vibes and trouble.
"Busy?" She asked.
"No." I said flatly. "The screaming milk machine is just decorative."
She laughed and leaned her elbows on the counter.
"I'll have an iced coffee." She said. "Surprise me."
"I can do that."Michael immediately perked up.
"I know." Wanessa said pleasantly, not even looking at him.
I slid her cup over once it was ready.
"You don't have to come every day."I said.
"I don't." She said. "I want to."
"You are enjoying this."I narrowed my eyes.
"A lot." She glanced meaningfully at the rose, still clutched in my hand. "He's consistent." She added. "That's new for him."
"I did not ask for consistency."I sighed.
"You didn't ask for attention either." She said lightly. "Yet."
Michael returned with the drink, set it down carefully.
"Here you go."He said.
Wanessa took a sip, nodded approval.
"Excellent."She said then, very casually, she said. "By the way, Xavier called this morning."
I froze mid reach for a cup.
"He what."I asked.
"Relax." She said. "Not to interrogate me. To ask if you prefer mornings or evenings."
I stared at her.
"You told him nothing." I warned.
"I told him." She corrected sweetly. "That you are terrifying when cornered."
"Is this flirting?"Michael blinked.
"No." I said. "This is escalation."
The bell jingled again, another customer and another order. I handed out change, smiled, wiped the counter, lived my life and then my phone buzzed in my apron pocket. Wanessa's eyes dropped immediately.
"Oh?" She teased.
I ignored it as the buzz came again.
"You okay?"Michael glanced at me.
"Never." I said, handing him a cup. "But functionally, yes."
"You are doing great." Wanessa said. "Very composed. Very brave."
"I am serving croissants." I replied. "Not facing a dragon."
She leaned closer, voice low and amused.
"Bella." She said. "For someone who wanted a quiet life, you're handling this remarkably well."
I handed the next customer their drink and sighed.
"I don't have a choice." I muttered.
Wanessa smiled.
"That." She said. "Is exactly how it starts."
The bell jingled again, and somewhere in the city, I just knew another rose was already on its way.