I remember the day well. I was behind the counter, serving cups and reheating lunches. Half an hour left before Nolan would arrive.

"Mrs. Miclan, it’s not good for you to have your fourth coffee," I said, trying not to sound rude.

"And what’s wrong with that?" She took another sip. "One comes to a café to drink coffee, not water — so stop complaining, little waitress, and pour me another."

"Yes, Mrs. Miclan." I tried to smile while refilling her cup. "But that’s already your fifth courtesy cup, and you haven’t ordered a single cookie."

"Are they free?"

"No — there are packs of three cookies for a dollar."

"Then I’m not interested. They probably use sour butter and that causes heartburn." She finished her cup in one sip. "Look, bring me one, and if I like it I’ll buy the pack."

I placed one cookie on a small plate and slid it across the counter without a word.

She took it, took a bite, chewed slowly with the expression of someone looking for the flaw before finding the flavor.

"It’s fine," she said finally, as if that were a significant concession. "Bring me the pack."

"It’s three cookies for a dollar, Mrs. Miclan."

"I heard you, didn’t I?" She pulled a crumpled bill from the bottom of her bag. "And another coffee — but this one with extra sugar because the last one was bitter."

"The coffee has always been the same."

"Well today it was bitter," she remarked. "And don’t forget my change — I need it for the baby’s milk."

The bill was exactly one dollar.

"Mrs. Miclan. That’s exactly one dollar."

"That’s fine, dear — keep the change." She looked at my outfit, particularly my legs and my one remaining stocking. "You look like you need it."

It was then that the bell rang.

Not the usual clink clink. This one was faster — like when someone pushes the door with too much enthusiasm and the bronze doesn’t have time to sound right.

"RyneRyne!"

The voice filled the café before she did.

Mrs. Miclan looked up from her cookies.

Mayo crossed the café in eight steps, in her cream coat and leather bag, moving in that way that made people watch her without knowing exactly why. She settled onto the counter stool in one single movement. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

I repositioned myself behind the counter — an excuse to get away from Mrs. Miclan.

"It’s been a while, RyneRyne," she said, arranging her bag. "Look how pretty you’ve gotten — you’ve changed a lot. Just look at your—" She studied me for a second. "Your hair. Have you been letting it grow?"

"Not much," I said, touching it. "It’s good to see you, Mayo. How was your trip? How long was it this time?"

"Three months," she said, resting her elbows on the counter. "So tell me everything."

"Tell you what?" I said, looking away.

"Don’t play innocent. Yesterday was your anniversary."

"How do you know?" I looked at her.

"Because I know you," she leaned against the counter with that familiarity of hers — as if three months were three days. "And because you have that face of someone who enjoyed it, you little fox."

"Mayo, I don’t know what you mean."

"RyneRyne," she laughed. "Always so proper in public. If you want to save the best for last, do — but tell me how your anniversary was."

I didn’t respond right away.

Mayo was like that. She could disappear for three months and come back talking as if she had never left — as if the time between us didn’t need to be filled with updates or explanations. She just picked up from where we had left off, with that naturalness of hers that sometimes caught me off guard.

"We went to a flower market," I said.

She raised an eyebrow.

"A flower market?"

"Yes, a flower market," I confirmed. "It’s only open on Thursday mornings, on a street I had never walked down. We walked for forty-two minutes without buying anything."

"And what did you do for forty minutes without buying anything?"

"Made up names for the flowers." I let out a small laugh. "It was a lot of fun — from the names Nolan invented a beautiful story. That day I discovered I’m a relative of dragon tongue."

"You have no idea how hot that sounds."

"Well, I hadn’t seen it that way." I paused for a moment.

"It’s a silly joke — don’t read into it," she laughed. "Continue, I’m listening, little nun."

"Well then — afterward, a library. It has a corner on the second floor by a window, with a wooden table and a half-dead plant. And guess what?"

"What?" Mayo rested her chin on her hand.

"I watered it," I smiled. "You should have seen how nicely it moved under the water."

She let out a short laugh. "Seriously, girl? You went to your anniversary just to water someone else’s plant?"

"It was half dead."

"Of course you watered it!" She slapped the counter with her palm. "You’re unbelievable, honestly. And what was Nolan doing while you were playing nurse with the plant?"

"Watching me."

"Just watching? That man," she said, shaking her head. "He looks like he has infinite patience when it comes to you."

"You think so?" I said, lowering my head and remembering the wet floor in his house.

"Don’t get down — it’s a joke," she tapped the table. "And then what, little nun? Don’t tell me you went off to water more plants."

"We kissed," I said. "That was our first kiss."

"Don’t be ridiculous, friend." She grabbed a pack of cookies. "How long have you two been together?"

"That’s how long we’ve known each other," I looked away. "As a couple, we’ve only been together a month and twelve days."

"You really are a saint, friend." She ate two cookies at once, talking with her mouth full. "At your age — or maybe four years younger — I was at parties handing out kisses left and right. Now that was a perfect life."

"I know, I know," I said, cleaning a cup. "But you know how I am. In my life there can only ever be one man at a time."

"That’s why you’re such a uptight girl," she got up, placing a hand on my shoulder and making a dramatic gesture toward the wall. "You don’t know what life is, and that’s why you trap yourself in your beliefs. When you stop being a nun and start living, you’ll understand." She ate the last cookie. "When you abandon that ridiculous idea of waiting until marriage, you’ll start living."

"Well, guess what," I said, drawing all her attention.

She looked me directly in the eyes. "Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. The little nun went to her man’s house on the anniversary?" She laughed, giving me a pat on the back. "You’re unbelievable — and here I thought you were so proper, you little fox."

"Well, yes, we did go to his house... and..."

"And what?" She gave me another pat. "Don’t hold back — be super detailed." She sat on the counter. "I want to know every detail, so don’t hold back."

Thinking more carefully about my words, my cheeks went red as a ripe tomato.

"We didn’t do anything," I clarified, cheeks burning.

"What kind of woman, on her anniversary — or whatever celebration it was — goes to her boyfriend’s house and does nothing."

"Well, we did do something," I admitted, eyes down.

"It shows on your face — you never lose control over anything," she laughed. "So tell me, how was your first time? Skip the word ’incredible’ — that one goes without saying."

"It’s just that..." I searched for the words. "It wasn’t the way you think."

"The way I think?"

"The way you always think."

"Friend," she crossed her arms. "You have the face of a red bell pepper. Something happened in that house."

I set the cloth down on the counter.

"I fainted," I said.

Mayo blinked.

"What?"

"I didn’t exactly faint," I tried to correct myself. "It’s just that my knees decided the floor was more comfortable."

Mayo looked at me in silence for three seconds.

And then she let out the longest laugh I had ever heard from her in all the time I had known her, drawing the attention of the few people in the café. She doubled over the counter, shoulders shaking, trying to say something that wouldn’t come out because the laughter wouldn’t let her.

"Mayo," I said.

"Wait," she raised a hand, still laughing. "Wait, wait. Your knees couldn’t take the pleasure? You were on the floor soaking wet?"

"Technically, yes."

"Seriously?" She wiped her eyes. "And what did Nolan do?"

"He sat down beside me on the floor," I said, flushed. "Without saying a word. He just stayed there."

Mayo stopped laughing.

Not all at once. It faded gradually, like when a song ends and the silence arrives without warning.

"Wait," she said, in a different tone. "He sat down on the wet floor with you?"

"On the floor, against the wall," I confirmed. "And he took my hand."

Mayo said nothing for a moment.

"Hey," she finally said, more quietly. "You’ve always been like this, haven’t you? Since I’ve known you. Super tense about contact, about everything."

"I know," I replied.

"And did he know?"

"I think he sensed it. He never asked me directly, but he always treated me with that care — as if he knew that some things with me go slowly."

Mayo turned slightly on her stool, looking toward the window for a second.

"And it didn’t make you feel bad?" she asked. "What happened?"

"He told me we were young," I replied. "That we had a whole life ahead. That we didn’t have to rush anything."

"And?"

"And that we could wait until marriage if I wanted."

Mayo went completely still.

"Did he mean it?" She stayed quiet for a moment, looking at the floor with an empty gaze. "That... that’s beautiful." She looked at me, then back at the floor. "And then what?"

"Then I showered and we watched a movie," I said. "Both of us on his sofa, under a blanket, as if nothing had happened."

Mayo looked at me. Not with her usual expression. With another one — quieter — one I hadn’t seen on her many times.

"And was that okay?" she asked.

"It was perfect."

She stayed quiet a moment longer, looking at the counter, with that gesture of hers when something reaches her in a way she hadn’t anticipated and she doesn’t quite know what to do with it.

Then she looked up.

"Hey, Ryne," she said, recovering that smile of hers — though it took a second longer than usual to appear. "You’re being a very happy girl," she said, closing her eyes as she said it. "Did you enjoy your anniversary, friend?"

I looked at her.

And for the first time in a long time, without calculating the answer, without choosing the words:

"Yes, I enjoyed it very much." I felt my heart beating — like a confirmation of my own feelings. "Nolan is the most perfect man in the world."