Every morning the scenario went like this…
She arrived early at Café Nervosa and smiled when she saw him sitting at the table waiting for her. He rose to his feet and greeted her with a warm hug and a soft, lingering kiss that made the previous night of little sleep (in anticipation of seeing him) more than worth it. He asked her if she'd like a cup of coffee, to which she always smiled and replied yes, knowing that he would return minutes later with a large cup of coffee and a sweet scone; a surprise because he loved her, he said. And his thoughtfulness prompted her to kiss him sweetly.
It was a ritual that she looked forward to each and every morning, save for Sunday mornings. Sunday was the one day that Café Nervosa was closed and it was definitely the day of the week that she liked the least.
She never saw Eric on Sundays. It was his day of rest, he explained. She could certainly understand. He worked so hard and he was a very busy man, what with working at the Café full time, from early morning till late afternoon. He only had a couple of hours break before he began his second job, a gig at the local nightclub. His band played well into the night, after which he would return home for a few hours of sleep before waking up before dawn to do it all over again. He must have been exhausted. But that didn't keep her from missing him terribly.
When they were apart, she thought about him constantly, willing the first day of the week to pass quickly. Of course, Sunday was the day of the week that went by the slowest. On Sundays, she even managed to think about him despite Martin's shouting (and sometimes ranting and raving) at the television as he sat in his favorite chair, complaining or cheering about the Seahawks and the other teams that were playing what seemed like endless games of football. Honestly, how many football games could one person watch in one day?
But instead of dwelling on it, she closed her eyes and conjured up Eric's handsome face once more. His red hair, his sweet smile, his broad shoulders… the mere thought of him warmed her heart.
They'd only been seeing each other for six months but it felt like much longer. She stopped in her tracks on the sidewalk, just seconds from the cafe and stared at her left hand. The ring he had given her shone brightly; a small ring with a blue stone that glistened when the sunlight caught it. Just the sight brought a memory that she'd almost forgotten.
She remembered the day that he'd given it to her; three weeks and four days before, on their anniversary. She hadn't expected to receive a gift, but when he'd opened the small blue velvet box, she'd very nearly cried.
"It's not an engagement ring." He told her, bringing her spirits down a little. She couldn't deny that she was disappointed, but she wouldn't let it show. She didn't want to ruin the beautiful moment. The smile remained on her face and within seconds became genuine when he said; "It's… a promise of love."
"It's beautiful." She said. "But I don't have a gift for-."
He stopped her with a kiss. "I don't need a gift, Daphne. I have you. I just wanted you to know how much I love you."
Tears streamed down her cheeks and she cradled his face in her hands and kissed him again and again. No man had ever told her that he loved her before and it was the most wonderful sound in the world. "And I love you too, Eric." She replied, meaning it more than she ever thought possible.
When he slipped the ring onto her finger, she could hear applause around them. Apparently people thought they had just gotten engaged and she didn't have the heart to tell them otherwise. And so she simply went along with their assumption.
It certainly didn't hurt to dream and she knew that one day that dream would come true; most likely when she least expected it. She kissed him then, as though she had accepted his proposal. She decided at that moment that when he did propose, she would accept without hesitation. For she did love him; she loved him deeply (or so she thought). And for the moment it was enough.
