Epilogue: One Year Later

The chime above the front door didn't bring that sudden wave of loneliness anymore. Now, whenever it rang, I couldn't help but smile.

The cafe was buzzing with people. The warm smell of roasted beans, freshly baked pastries, and cheerful chatter filled the air. But my eyes immediately went to our usual spot in the corner. Adrián was sitting there, absorbed in his tablet, looking over blueprints for his new architecture firm. His sleeves were rolled up and his reading glasses were on — a look that, as much as I tried to play it cool, still drove me crazy.

As if he could feel me watching, he looked up. His green eyes caught mine, and he gave me that subtle smirk he saved only for me.

I set my tray on the counter and walked over with a fresh cup of his favorite coffee.

"One Americano with a splash of hazelnut for the best architect in town," I said, setting it down in front of him.

Before I could pull my hand back, Adrián caught my wrist and gently pulled me onto his lap.

"Thanks, beautiful," he whispered, pressing a sweet kiss to my lips. "Though the coffee is really only the second best part of coming here every day."

"Oh yeah? What's the best part?" I teased, running my fingers through his dark hair.

"Getting to see the owner. I'm still trying to convince her to move in with me."

A warm, wonderful feeling bloomed in my chest. He had officially asked me just a week ago, and for the first time, I wasn't scared at all. The past was just a distant memory—a reminder to treasure what we had.

"Well, I've been giving your offer some thought..." I looked at him, playing along. "And I think the cafe can get by without me in the evenings. So... yes. I'm moving in with you, Adrián."

Adrián's eyes lit up with pure joy. Right there, in front of a full room of customers, he pulled me close and kissed me deeply, with so much passion and relief. It was a kiss that promised a future—one we had built step by step, with patience and love.

When we finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against mine, his breath slightly uneven.

"I love you, Maya. Thank you for opening the door for me that rainy afternoon."

"I love you, Adrián. Welcome home."

Outside, the afternoon sun flooded the street, lighting up where we were and where we were heading together. Because some stories don't end with a final chapter—they're just the start of something new.

THE END