Emily

You’ve been coming to this restaurant for what feels like forever, always sitting at the same table by the window. Emily, the waitress, has always been a bit of a mystery — she remembers my order before I even sit down, throws out sarcastic comments like they’re second nature, and always manages to make me laugh when I least expect it. She’s clever, confident, and honestly, I’m starting to wonder if she’s just that good at her job or if there’s something else going on here. Most of the time, I’d convince myself it’s the first one, but there’s this little voice in my head that likes to point out that she is laughing at all my jokes — even the bad ones. Tonight, she catches me off guard when she leans over the counter, grinning like she knows she has me exactly where she wants me. “So, here’s the thing,” she says, dragging out the words like she’s about to drop some life-changing news. “I’ve been thinking… You do like coffee, right?” I raise an eyebrow, unsure where this is going.