Brewed For You

The smell of cinnamon and freshly baked bread clung to the air like hope that refused to die. Aria Hudson set down a tray of steaming muffins on the counter of her tiny bakery, Sweet Haven, her palms still warm from the oven’s heat. She’d decorated the display with the precision of someone who knew aesthetics mattered almost as much as flavor. Each pastry was placed at a perfect angle, every cup of coffee poured with care.It should have been a comforting sight. But this morning, like so many others, the sight felt more like lost hope.The place was nearly empty safe for the two regulars tucked in the corner with laptops, sipping at their drinks like they had all the time in the world. The clink of spoons and faint hum of indie jazz filled the silence that gnawed at her nerves. She hated slow mornings. Slow meant fewer sales. Fewer sales meant she was one step closer to losing this shop, the last thing connecting her to the mother she’d buried ten years ago.Aria forced a smile as she

The night of the gala arrived faster than Aria would have liked.She stood in the back of her café, surrounded by trays of finger foods and neatly boxed desserts, her apron swapped for a simple black dress she’d dug out from the depths of her closet. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was neat and professional enough to blend in as catering staff. Still, she tugged at the hem nervously, wondering what she was doing walking into his world again.She loaded everything into the van she’d borrowed from her neighbor, whispering to herself, Just work. Take the money. Then get out.The venue was a mansion on the edge of the city, its driveway lit with golden lanterns that glowed against the night. Expensive cars lined the cobblestone, guests stepping out draped in gowns and tuxedos that looked like they cost more than her café equipments combined.Aria gritted her teeth as she unloaded trays. The staff entrance was at the side, where a cluster of servers in white shirts and black vests smoked and g

Aria's knuckles turned white from how tight she was clenching them. She willed herself to look away, to push down memories she had thought she had overcome. What was Ethan doing here? she thought, her chest tightening with every heartbeat. Her stomach churned, and a cold sweat ran down her neck.Damian’s sharp gray eyes flicked from her to the new presence in the room, assessing, calculating. He didn’t need Aria to say anything to know something was wrong. From the way she had stiffened, her hands trembling slightly at her sides, he could tell she was on edge.“Who are you?” he asked again, calm but sharp, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.Ethan’s gaze met his, lazy, too casual, as if he owned the place. A smirk ghosted across his lips. “Who’s asking?” His tone was defensive, challenging, and borderline dangerous.Damian’s jaw ticked, a subtle movement betraying his rising irritation as opposed to his usual controlled facial expressions. He shifted his gaze to Aria.

Smack!" Shut up! I didn't say you could talk." He slapped her.Aria held her stinging cheek in her hand which she was sure was going to bruise."You're getting quite bold, huh? Bringing a guy to our own home"He roughly grabbed her by the hair, pulling hard."I promise you, he's just a friend. I ran into him on our block, I was only trying to be nice. We were only catching up." Aria pleaded, holding on to his hands on her hair."You were practically on his lap. How's that being nice?"Aria felt that was a stretch. They sat on the same 2-seater couch in their living room. There was a considerable amount of space between them too. But she knew better than to point that out. He was obviously in a mood....and drunk. Judging by the stench of alcohol oozing out of him."Please, you're hurting me". She resulted to begging. She always did.His grip loosened a little at that. Only a little."Why do you make me do this Ria?" He lightly caressed her head with one hand."You know I love you so m

The morning air was a bit harsh, sweeping through Damian's hair as he had his windows wound down. He couldn't contain the adrenaline pumping through his veins as he stepped on the gas, and in record time he was parked in front of Safe Haven.He parked his car in such a haste that he had only realized that the pastel-blue Safe Haven sign was not lit up and a crooked 'Closed' sign hung in the window, when he got out of his car.His jaw ticked.He hadn’t stopped moving since he stormed out of the gym, hadn’t even gone home to shower. He just drove, like he was afraid if he slowed down, he’d talk himself out of coming here.He couldn't hide the disappointment he felt. A frown forming on his face.Just as he was about getting back in his car, he perceived something. Pistachio. It was faint but it was there. With Safe Haven being the only café in the area, it has to be coming from inside.Maybe she was inside...With that thought he strode to the door and knocked firmly. Nothing. He tried a