The next morning, Catherine woke up with a feeling she hadn't experienced in years: anticipation.
Sunlight cut through the slats of the blinds in thin slices of gold. Catherine lay in bed for a long time, gazing at the ceiling, reliving the events of the night before like a favorite song stuck in her head. The touch of Luffy's thumb against the back of her hand when he said "wifey." The low, rumbling sound of his laughter when she teased him about the apron. The fact that he hadn't tried to kiss her at the door not because he didn't want to, but because he wanted to do it right.
Catherine pressed the backs of both hands against her cheeks. They were warm. She was grinning like a fool.
"Alright," she said to the empty room. "Get it together, Catherine."
She showered in a hurry, selected a soft cream-colored sweater and dark jeans, let her hair down since he had once mentioned in a late-night conversation that he liked it when girls let their hair down instead of styling it too much. She even put on a little lip gloss, a peach-colored one that she never really used.
Outside, the autumn air was crisp with the scent of wet leaves and wood smoke carried on the wind. Four blocks felt like a shorter distance.
Brewed Promises' bell had the same bright melody as the day before. Luffy was already there, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, intently wiping down the espresso machine as if it was a small operation. When he saw her, the whole expression on his face changed: eyes crinkled, lips curving into that boyish smile that was just devastating.
"Morning, WifeyWithWanderlust," he called out, his voice booming over the soft indie music coming from the speakers. "Right on time. I was starting to think you were going to ghost me after I admitted to naming my pastries."
Catherine settled into her usual stool at the window counter. "I thought about it. But then I remembered you promised me a cat on my latte again."
"Priorities," he agreed, his expression solemn. He began making drinks without asking what she wanted. Lavender latte, extra foam, always. He remembered.
As he steamed the milk, he rested both forearms on the counter, close enough that she could smell the coffee grounds and the faint scent of cedarwood soap he used.
"So," he said, his voice softer since the morning rush hadn't yet begun. "How'd you sleep?"
"Like I was drugged with happiness," she confessed. "You?"
"Terribly," he said, and Catherine raised an eyebrow. "In the best way," he continued. "Reliving last night. Wondering if I came on too strong with the whole 'wifey' thing."
Catherine cocked her head. "Did you think it was too strong?"
He looked at her, really looked, like he was trying to commit the color of her eyes in the light of day to memory.
"No," he said softly. "It was the most honest thing I'd said in years."
The milk pitcher made its sharp stop. He poured the milk with hands that moved like a surgeon, the foam design of the cat again, but this time complete with little whiskers that curled at the tips. As he pushed the cup toward her, their hands touched. Neither made a move to draw back.
"Thank you," she said.
"For the latte, or for not running screaming when I called you wifey on day two?"
"Both," she said.
They both stared at each other like lunatics for what felt like an eternity.
The bell over the door chimed. First customers of the day. Luffy straightened, but before he turned to greet the customers, he leaned in enough to whisper, "Stay till close again?"
Catherine nodded. "Wouldn't miss it."
The day slipped by in gentle, stolen moments.
He brought her a plate of still-warm cinnamon rolls at eleven, set it down with a flourish. "Test subject required. Tell me if they're too sweet."
She took one bite, closed her eyes. "Hubby," she said around the bite, "you're dangerous."
He laughed so hard he almost dropped the tray of drinks he was carrying to the next table.
Around two, when there was a rare lull, he came over and sat beside her for five stolen moments. He smelled like espresso and vanilla. She leaned her shoulder against his without thinking.
"Tell me something embarrassing," she said.
He groaned. "You first."
"Fine." She leaned in. "When I was fourteen, I wrote fan fiction about a pirate and a mermaid falling in love. I cried when I finished it because they couldn't be together. Still have it saved on an old USB somewhere."
Luffy's eyes sparkled. "That's adorable. My turn." He leaned in closer. "I once tried to impress a girl in high school by making heart-shaped pancakes. I set the kitchen on fire. Literally. The fire department had to come. She never spoke to me again."
Catherine burst out laughing, her hand over her mouth. "You're a walking disaster."
"Only when I like someone," Luffy replied, his voice now serious. "And I really like you, Catherine."
Catherine's laughter died down into something softer and quieter.
"I really like you too, Luffy."
He reached over and tucked her hair behind her ear. His fingertips lingered against her skin a fraction longer than was necessary.
The bell rang out again. Duty called.
But every time Luffy passed her stool, he would brush her shoulder with his hand. Every time their eyes met across the room, it was as if they had their own private conversation going on that no one else could hear.
When closing time rolled around, the sky outside had changed to the deep indigo of the start of evening. He locked the door, flipped the sign, and dimmed the lights until only the fairy lights and the warm light behind the counter were left on.
He made them both fresh cups of decaf, his treat, and took them over to the two-person table in the corner of the room, the one tucked in behind the bookshelf full of cat picture books and old travel guides.
They were close together, knees touching under the table.
For a time, they simply sipped their coffee in comfortable silence, the only sound the gentle rain that had started again falling in the background.
Then Luffy started to speak, his voice low and rough. "My parents died three years ago last month. Car accident on the highway. I was supposed to be with them, but I'd canceled at the last second because I'd have a big exam coming up. Survivor's guilt is a real thing. Some days I feel like I should have been in that car."
Catherine put her mug down slowly.
Reached over and took his hands. "I'm so sorry."
He squeezed her fingers. "Most days I'm okay. The café helps. Keeps me busy. Keeps me from thinking too hard. But… meeting you feels like the first time in three years I've wanted to look forward instead of just survive."
Catherine's eyes filled with tears. But she didn't bother to hide them.
"I travel so much because staying still hurts," she admitted. "My mom left when I was nine. Dad drank himself quiet after that. I learned early that if you keep moving, people can't leave you they just get left behind. But I'm tired, Luffy. I'm so tired of airports and hotel beds and pretending I'm fine being alone."
He raised her hand to his lips and pressed a slow, careful kiss to her knuckles.
"Then stay," he said simply. "Not forever. Not yet. Just… stay a little longer. Let me make you coffee in the mornings. Let me walk you home. Let me be the place you come back to."
Catherine's breathing hitched.
She leaned forward across the tiny table until their foreheads touched.
"I want that," she breathed. "I want mornings with you. And nights. And stupid cat foam art. And terrible puns. I want all of it, Hubby."
Luffy let out a deep breath that sounded like he had been holding it for years.
"Wifey," he breathed. It was a prayer.
Neither of them hesitated this time.
He cupped her face with both hands. It was gentle. Reverent. He kissed her.
It was a slow kiss. Aching. The kind that tasted like coffee and rain and all the promises they had never made. Her fingers curled into his shirt. His thumbs wiped away the tears that had fallen.
They came up for air when they had to. Both were breathing hard. He leaned in again, forehead to forehead.
"I'm going to marry you someday," he murmured. "Not today. Not tomorrow. But someday. When it feels like the most natural thing in the world."
Catherine smiled through her tears.
"I'm going to say yes," she whispered back. "And then I'm going to kiss you stupid in front of all our cats."
He laughed softly, kissed the tip of her nose.
"Deal."
They stood there like that until the rain stopped and the street outside became quiet.
Finally, when he walked her home, their fingers stayed laced the whole way.
At her door, he kissed her again, deeper that time, hungrier, and whispered against her lips,
"Tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow," she promised.
Inside, she leaned back against the closed door, her heart racing, her cheeks flushing, already counting the hours until she could see him again.
Outside, Luffy stood under the streetlamp for a long minute, looking up at her window until the light flicked on.
He smiled into the dark.
"Found her," he whispered again.
And the universe, listening in, drew their thread just a little tighter.