Cafe confusion

ELLA 'S POV

My heart was racing as Ethan Caldwell stood in the doorway of Thompson’s Brew, his fancy suit wet from the London rain. His gray-blue eyes stared at me, hard and confused, like I had done something terrible.

The café had gone silent, every customer watching us like it was some sort of show. Grandma Maria gripped her rolling pin, her face tight with worry and something I couldn’t even understand, and I was stuck, my wet dress clinging to me. 

My life felt like a telenovela I couldn’t escape, and Ethan was making it worse.

I took a shaky breath, trying to stay calm. The café smelled like fresh coffee, ginseng, dry wood, herbal tea and warm bread, but it was suffocating me now. Grandma’s old radio was playing her favorite music, too loud and too dramatic for that moment.

Ethan stepped inside, his shoes squeaking on the floor, and the customers leaned closer, their eyes wide, trying to understand what was actually happening. I wanted to hide, but there was nowhere to go.

“What do you want, Ethan?” I asked, my voice small.

He crossed his arms, his jaw tight. “You know why I’m here, Ella, This clinic thing. We need to talk.”

Grandma moved in front of me, waving her rolling pin. “Don’t you yell at my Ella, Who are you to come here like this?”

Ethan looked at her, his face softening a bit. “Mrs. Thompson, I’m not here to fight. This is about your granddaughter and me. It’s serious.”

I felt my cheeks burn. Seriously? He had humiliated me at that Brixton event, calling me a nobody writer, and now he acted like I owed him something. I stepped around Grandma, my hands shaking.

“I didn’t ask for this, Ethan. The clinic messed up, not me.”

He sighed, running a hand through his dark blonde hair. A mess-up that changed everything.

“You think I believe you’re innocent after that blog?”

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. That blog. I had written about his greedy hotels and it went viral. It felt good, until he mocked me in public.

“You’re mad about that? I’m the one pregnant, Ethan.”

The word pregnant made the customers gasp. Oh no, now everyone knows. Grandma’s eyes widened, her rolling pin dropping to the counter.

“Ella, what did you say? Pregnant? You’re not married.”

I winced, my stomach turning. “Grandma, it’s not like that. The clinic used Ethan’s sperm by mistake. I didn’t do anything.”

She grabbed my arm, her voice low. “A mistake? Ella, you promised me. No boys, no babies. How did this happen?”

Ethan cut in, his tone firm. “She’s telling the truth, Mrs. Thompson. The clinic confirmed it. But we need to figure this out.”

“Figure it out? This is my life, not your business deal.”

He stepped closer, his voice softer. “It’s my life too, Ella. My name’s on this now.”

Grandma pulled me toward the back room, her grip tight. “Ella, we talk now, alone.”

I followed her, the smell of flour and coffee beans hitting me as we entered the storage area. She shut the door, her eyes blazing.

“Tell me everything, Ella. No hiding.”

I leaned against a sack of beans, my legs weak. “Grandma, I went to the clinic for a check-up. They mixed me up and put Ethan’s baby with me. I swear, it’s not my fault.”

She paced, muttering in Spanish about saints and sins. “This is a telenovela curse. A rich man’s baby?, what are we going to do?, He’ll take you away.”

I shook my head, my voice breaking. “He won’t. I don’t even like him. I don’t know what to do.”

She stopped, her face stern. “You should keep this baby, Ella. It’s a gift, even if it's a mistake.”

I groaned, rubbing my eyes. “Grandma, I can’t think. He’s out there and I’m scared.”

She touched my shoulder, her voice gentle. “You’re strong, Ella. But be careful with him.”

I nodded, my mind spinning. Strong? I felt lost. My phone buzzed. Lucy, my best friend, was probably wondering why I hadn’t texted back. I peeked out the door. Ethan was still there, talking to a customer, his suit looking completely out of place.

He was handsome. I hated to admit it, but I still wanted to yell at him.

I stepped back into the café, my hands sweaty. “Okay, Ethan, we can talk, but not here.”

He turned, raising an eyebrow. “Where, then? You decide.”

I thought hard, I didn’t want him in my space, but I needed to know more.

“South Bank. Tomorrow morning. Neutral ground.”

He nodded, his face calm. “Tomorrow, then. Don’t back out, Ella.”

I crossed my arms, my voice firm. “I won’t.”

Grandma pulled me aside again. “Ella, you sure about this? He’s trouble.”

I sighed. “I have to, Grandma. For the baby.”

She muttered about telenovela villains but let me go. Ethan headed for the door, pausing to look back.

“See you tomorrow, Ella. We’ll sort this out.”

I didn’t answer, just watched him leave. The customers started chatting again, their voices turning into a soft hum. I slumped into a chair, my head in my hands. My notebook sat on the counter, but my writing felt far away.

Pregnant. With Ethan’s baby. He hated me and I hated him. But tomorrow, we will talk.

My phone buzzed again. It was Lucy.

“Ella, where are you? Call me!”

I texted back.

“Bad news. Meet me tomorrow.”

She replied with a shocked face emoji. I almost smiled, but then the door opened again.

James, my ex, walked in. His brown hair was wet, his face worried.

“Ella, I heard rumors,” he said. “About you and some rich guy.”

I froze, my heart sinking. “James, not now.”

He stepped closer, his voice soft. “I still care, Ella. Tell me what’s happening.”

I looked away, my voice quiet. “I can’t. Not yet.”

He nodded, his eyes sad. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”