Emma
By the time we got home, the sun was dipping low, slanting gold light across the kitchen floor. Tommy carried the folder of college forms under his arm, his hair ruffled from the wind. I couldn't stop smiling — not a big grin, but something smaller, softer, that wouldn't fade.
Mum turned from the stove as we came in, wiping her hands on a tea towel. "There you are," she said, her eyes flicking between us. "How did it go?"
I hesitated for a heartbeat, then felt the words tumble out. "Good. Really good. I think I'm going to enrol — Home Economics and Business. And later maybe go to the Polytechnic in Hull to do a baking course."
Mum's face broke into a smile so bright it made my chest tighten. "Oh, love… that's wonderful." She reached over and pulled me into a quick hug, "You've got such a gift, Emma. I always knew you'd do something with it."
Dad came in just then, his hands still rough from work, his eyes tired but kind. He caught the tail end of Mum's words. "What's all this, then?"
"She's enrolling at college," Mum said, beaming.
Dad's eyebrows lifted and then that proud, quiet smile spread across his face — the one that meant more than any words. "That's brilliant, Em. Really brilliant. You'll do great."
Teddy wandered in behind him, munching on a biscuit and grinned. "Guess that means we'll be eating loads of cakes from now on."
I rolled my eyes, but I was laughing, too. "You wish."
Tommy stood by the table, looking a little unsure, as though he wasn't sure whether to stay or slip out quietly. But Mum caught sight of him and smiled warmly. "And you, Tommy — thank you for going with her today. I don't think she'd have gone if you hadn't."
He rubbed the back of his neck, that shy, endearing gesture that always made something flutter inside me. "I didn't do much. She just needed a nudge."
Dad nodded approvingly. "You're a good lad."
Tommy smiled faintly and I caught the flicker of pride in his eyes before he looked away.
Tea was noisy and full of laughter — the kind of evening we hadn't had in a long time. Teddy told some ridiculous story from school, Mum scolded him for exaggerating and Dad laughed anyway. For once, the laughter didn't feel like something I was watching from the outside. It felt like I could join in again.
When we'd finished and the plates were stacked, Tommy glanced at the clock and pushed back his chair. "I should probably head off," he said softly.
Dad nodded. "It's late. You'll come again soon, though?"
Tommy smiled. "If you'll have me."
"Always," Mum said and there was something in her tone, gratitude, affection, that made my throat ache.
I followed him to the door. The hallway was quiet except for the ticking clock. The air outside was cool, the sky deepening to violet. For a moment, neither of us spoke.
"Thank you," I said finally. "For today. For… everything."
He looked down at me, his expression tender. "You don't have to thank me, Em. I just want to see you happy."
"I am," I whispered. "Or at least… I'm starting to be."
We stood there, close enough that I could feel the warmth of him even in the cool air. I hesitated for a heartbeat — then rose on my toes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. It was gentle, but real.
When I stepped back, he looked a little startled, then smiled, that quiet, heart-melting smile that always seemed to belong only to me.
"Goodnight, Emma," he said softly.
"Goodnight, Tommy."
I watched him walk down the path until he disappeared into the twilight. My heart felt light, not weightless, but steady.
Tommy
The bell above the café door jingled for what felt like the hundredth time the next morning. I wiped my hands on a tea towel and reached for another pot of tea, the scent of bacon and eggs filling the air. The breakfast rush was just slowing down — the few customers still sitting were mums with prams and a few regulars with their newspapers folded neatly beside their cups.
"Tommy, love, can you take those scones over to table four?" called Kim, her voice carrying over the hiss of the steamer.
"On it," I said, balancing the tray with practiced ease. She winked at me as I passed — she'd taken me on the day I came in here looking for a job, no questions asked, just a kind smile and the words, 'You look like you'll work hard.'
I had. Every day since.
"Thanks, sweetheart," one of the regulars said as I set down her tea. "You're a good lad — always smiling."
I smiled back, though I wasn't sure it was true. But it felt good, being part of something steady. I liked the rhythm here — the clatter of cups, the low murmur of conversation, the soft hum of the radio in the background. It gave me something to hold onto.
Between orders, I wiped down the counter and glanced out the window. The sunlight glinted off the high street and for a moment, I caught myself wondering what Emma was doing — if she'd filled in the enrolment forms, if she'd smiled the way she had last night when she told her mum about the courses.
That smile had lodged itself somewhere deep inside me.
"Tommy, can you help me lift this box?" Kim asked, dragging a crate of ingredients toward the back.
"Of course," I said, moving to take it from her.
She grinned. "You're a blessing, you know. Don't know what I'd do without you."
I felt my ears go warm. "Just glad to help."
When we'd set the crate down, she leaned against the counter, studying me. "You've settled in well, haven't you? Got a good head on your shoulders. Feels like you've been here for years."
I smiled faintly. "It's a good place. The people here are kind."
"Mm. Good." Her gaze softened.
The rest of the shift passed in a comfortable blur of orders, chatter, and sunlight. By two o'clock, the lunchtime rush had slowed, and I stood by the counter sipping the last of the lukewarm coffee Kim insisted I have before leaving.
"You heading home now?" she asked as she wiped her hands on her apron.
"Yeah," I said, glancing at the clock. "Might go see someone for a bit, if she's free."
"Oh? A girlfriend already?"
I tried not to grin like an idiot, but I couldn't stop it.
I laughed under my breath, set down my cup and hung my apron on its hook.
Outside, the afternoon light was soft. The sea breeze carried the faint scent of salt, tugging at my hair as I walked. My pay packet was tucked safely in my pocket — most of it would go toward rent, a bit toward savings, and maybe, just maybe, some toward something for Emma. She deserved little surprises, small proofs that she was special.
The thought of seeing her again — her soft voice, the way she reached for my hand yesterday — quickened my steps.
I wasn't sure where life was leading us yet. But for the first time in a long time, it felt like it was leading somewhere good.