I’m in a foul mood, but I make a huge effort to smile at customers and not let them see through my pathetic poker face. They’ve done nothing wrong and don’t deserve my crappy attitude. It’s hard though, because I feel bad for being called out by Ethan on lying and manipulating both Celine and him. I’m judging Ethan for what he did, but I’m no better. I just don’t feel like a good person right now, so that makes me want to try even harder. Smile more, make jokes, be extra friendly. I scrub the kitchen, make it sparkly clean. I give a customer a free drink. I search through a magazine to help a customer with a recommendation for a one-day tour in the Monterey area. Anything that can make me feel like I’m getting something right today. Look, I am nice and helpful and I’m kind. But it doesn’t work. I still feel bad.

Hugo comes in, as usual, for his dark coffee and veggie sandwich. He’s scanning a newspaper, while waiting for his order.

“What are you looking for, Hugo?”

“I don’t know. A miracle. I’ve decided to quit my job and start my own public relations company and my lease is up in Monterey, so I need both a place to live and space for an office.”

“Congratulations! A new start. That’s great,” I say.

“Only I can’t afford any of these places and still have enough to start the business.”

“You want me to look in the paper, maybe I’ll find something?” I offer.

“It’s alright, Maya. You’re busy. There’s nothing in there anyway. Thank you though.”

“I’ll keep my eyes open then,” I say, putting the coffee cup and sandwich in front of him.

As he leaves, I see Brienne in line and a few people behind her, Alan.

I look from Brienne to Alan and from Alan to Brienne and the more I watch them, the more I feel like this guilt I carry around would feel less suffocating if only I could do a nice thing for someone else. Last year, when Max—Aaron—was kind to me, I promised myself I’d pay it forward. And I broke my promise. When he broke my heart, I even stopped the one thing that I felt was my contribution to making the world a better place. I stopped writing my happily ever after stories and the world has felt gray ever since.

I grab the notebook from Ethan and the pen, and while the customer who is first in line is busy going through each and every menu item—thank God for undecided clients—I jot down, ‘Alan and Brienne have known each other for a long time, but it’s not until one summer day at their favorite café that their romance begins. Unexpectedly. It was a busy morning—’

“I’ll have the latte,” says the customer and I close the notebook.

The exhilaration of writing. The joy. It’s back and I can’t help smiling.

Fifty-Eight

Brienne reaches the front of the line, and when she does, I wonder if I can give fate a little help. I’ve never taken my stories off the page, but maybe it’s time. I’ve been so bitter this past year, letting that impact the one thing I loved the most—writing—and also changing the core of who I am. I’m a believer in love making the world go round and I will not apologize for it. I should’ve never let anything change that. Now that I know what went wrong, I feel like I got it all back.