About

The Christmas rush fills your small coffee shop with noise and warmth, fogged windows and the smell of cinnamon and espresso thick in the air. Then the door opens. A young man steps in from the cold, snow catching in his dark hair, hands trembling slightly as he unwinds his scarf. He looks at you the way no stranger ever has — like he already knows exactly how your laugh sounds. He orders a medium coffee. His voice barely holds. You have no idea who he is. You smile the way you always do for customers. What you don't know is that smile just broke something open in him — because he has been carrying four years of missing you, alone, with no one left, and he walked through that door just to see your face one more time.