Chapter 5 - Coffee Preferences

The next few days slipped into a comfortable routine.

Emma woke before sunrise, helped prepare the first batch of bread at the bakery, rushed to campus with a coffee balanced in one hand, survived another day of architecture studio, then returned to the bakery until evening.

By the time she reached her apartment each night, she was too exhausted to do much more than shower, finish a little coursework, and crawl into bed.

Somewhere between those ordinary moments, talking to Daniel became part of her routine too.

It wasn't constant.

Some days they only exchanged a handful of messages. Other days the conversation stretched throughout the evening, interrupted by lectures, meetings, customers, and whatever else life demanded.

Neither of them seemed bothered by the pauses.

If anything, they made the conversations feel more natural.

That Thursday afternoon, Emma was sketching a roof detail while waiting for her classmates to finish a group discussion when her phone vibrated.

Daniel: Coffee or tea?

Emma stared at the screen.

No greeting.

No context.

Just a question.

She smiled before typing back.

Emma: Coffee.

A minute later another message appeared.

Daniel: Black?

She wrinkled her nose.

Emma: Absolutely not.

Daniel: So you're one of those people.

Emma: What does that mean?

Daniel: The people who order coffee that doesn't taste like coffee.

Emma laughed quietly, earning a curious glance from Lily across the table.

Emma: Mine tastes like coffee.

It just also happens to contain milk.

Daniel took a little longer to reply.

Daniel: I'll allow it.

Emma couldn't help smiling.

Lily leaned over just enough to catch the expression on her face.

"He's texting you again."

Emma quickly locked her phone.

"You've become nosy."

"I've become concerned."

"Concerned?"

"You smile at your phone more than you smile at me."

Emma laughed.

"I see you every day."

"Exactly. I should be winning."

Their professor called everyone back to the discussion before Emma could answer.

She slipped her phone into her bag, though she caught herself wondering whether Daniel would send another message before class ended.

-

The evening rush at the bakery began earlier than usual.

Fresh loaves disappeared almost as quickly as they came out of the oven, leaving Emma and Mrs. Alvarez constantly moving between the kitchen and the display shelves.

A little boy stood on his tiptoes, pointing at the tray of salt bread.

"That one."

His mother smiled apologetically.

"He asks for it every Thursday."

Emma wrapped two warm rolls in brown paper and handed them over.

"I hope you enjoy them."

The little boy grinned.

"It's my favorite."

Emma watched them leave, strangely touched by something so simple.

People came back for familiar things.

Maybe that was why she loved baking.

Recipes changed very little. The same ingredients, the same process, the same warm smell filling the room every morning.

There was comfort in knowing exactly what to expect.

Her phone buzzed inside her apron pocket.

She couldn't check it until nearly twenty minutes later.

Daniel: Still defending milk in coffee?

Emma laughed under her breath.

Emma: Always.

Daniel: That's admirable.

Wrong, but admirable.

She shook her head before replying.

Emma: Now I need to know how you drink yours.

The typing bubble appeared almost immediately.

Daniel: Black.

No sugar.

Emma made a face at her screen.

Emma: That sounds miserable.

Daniel: It wakes me up.

She almost typed, Maybe you need more sleep instead.

Instead, she hesitated.

Would that sound too familiar?

Too personal?

After a moment, she pressed send anyway.

Emma: Maybe you should sleep more.

The message sat on the screen.

Seen.

No reply.

Emma immediately regretted it.

Maybe she'd crossed a line.

Maybe he worked long hours and didn't appreciate unsolicited advice.

She slipped the phone back into her pocket and forced herself to focus on work.

-

Daniel read the message twice.

Maybe you should sleep more.

He leaned back in his chair, rubbing a hand across tired eyes.

The office windows reflected a man who looked older than thirty-five.

His tie had been loosened hours ago. The coffee on his desk had gone cold.

Nathan knocked lightly before entering.

"The investors are ready whenever you are."

Daniel nodded without looking away from the phone.

"I'll be there."

Nathan followed his gaze.

"A message?"

Daniel smiled to himself.

"Apparently I need more sleep."

Nathan let out a quiet laugh.

"She's not wrong."

Daniel looked up.

"You too?"

"Sir, you've slept in your office twice this month."

Daniel couldn't argue with that.

He slipped the phone into his pocket and stood.

"Let's not make it three."

-

Emma unlocked her apartment a little after nine.

The familiar scent of fresh bread still lingered on her clothes.

She changed into an oversized sweatshirt, reheated leftover pasta, and carried her dinner to the small table by the window.

Only then did she remember her unanswered message.

She picked up her phone.

There it was.

Daniel: You're probably right.

I'll try.

Emma read it twice before smiling.

She hadn't expected an answer anymore.

Emma: Good.

Architecture students aren't the only ones who need sleep.

A minute passed.

Then another.

Finally—

Daniel: Is that your professional opinion?

She laughed.

Emma: No.

Just common sense.

His reply came almost immediately.

Daniel: I'll trust the baker, then.

Emma rested her chin against her hand, smiling at the screen.

Outside, another train passed, its familiar rumble shaking the apartment for only a moment.

She barely noticed it.

For the first time in years, she realized she had something to look forward to at the end of every day.

It wasn't a grand romance.

It wasn't even a promise.

It was simply a conversation with someone who made ordinary days feel a little lighter.