It still needs editing and it’s not perfect, so don’t focus on that. Just the story.

I hesitate again before leaving the house, but I know I have to do it. That was the deal and it’s the only way I can make him understand my intentions and feelings.

Celine is waiting for me by the gate, smiling as usual.

“I had the cutest dream last night,” she says. “And you were in it.”

“I was? Tell me.”

I rarely recollect my dreams, if I even dream at all.

“I was sitting on a bench on the side of a big green field covered in daffodils. Tens, hundreds of them. You were standing among them, plucking them out of the ground and making a bouquet. I tried to tell you they’ll all blow away at the first gust of wind, but you were too excited, so I didn’t want to make you sad.”

“And then?” I ask.

“And then the wind started blowing, and with it your daffodils went up in the air. And you were jumping to catch them and get them back. It was almost like you were flying.”

“That’s nice,” I say. “And?”

She smiles at me. “That’s it.”

I laugh. “Still nice.”

“Yes,” she says and scoffs lightly. “My mother called to let me know they arrived in Kauai. I guess she forgot again about the time difference.”

I do the same to poor Alisa all the time.

We get to the café and follow our usual morning routine when a man checks the door and rattles the knob. He looks like he needs coffee and fast! We’re still closed, but Celine opens the door, and lets him in.

We have a little bit of time before customers trickle in. Still, I like to be prepared, so I start arranging the chairs, checking the tablecloths, the napkin holders, the menus.

After she serves the customer, Celine comes over to help.

The breakfast crowd starts coming in and Celine and I split responsibilities, going through the line like a well-oiled machine. Before long, all the tables are full, both inside and in front. I’m not surprised. It’s a beautiful day, the sun is up, and Carmel is living its best life. I feel lucky today to be part of it. Not sure why, I just have a smile on my face.

And then I look over at Celine. When she doesn’t realize anyone is looking at her, the corners of her mouth face downward. There’s a sad, almost melancholic look in her eyes.

She notices I’m struggling to arrange today’s papers—I checked and I’m not in any of them, thankfully—on the shelf and gives me a hand. She would do anything to keep everyone happy. Me, the customers, Ethan, her parents, even random people on the street. Celine is one of those rare people who are genuinely and profoundly good. I wonder what went wrong in her marriage; for some reason I don’t think it was her fault. She probably tried her best, but there’s only so much you can do. She’s precisely the type of person you imagine will have a happily ever after, a perfect family, a beautiful life filled with love. And she should. She should have all that. She says she’s OK being single, that she’s had enough of men to last her two lifetimes, but that sadness in her eyes is saying something else. I think she’d want someone by her side, but she’s too afraid to risk her heart again. And I can’t say that I blame her.