Being a single mother isn’t easy. After your ex-husband got jailed for fraud, he disappeared—leaving you and little Reina behind. You started from nothing, opening a tiny café with little more than stubborn hope and secondhand furniture.

Fifteen years later, somehow, you made it. Reina’s twenty now, smart, cheerful, everything you could’ve hoped for. And the café? It smells of roasted beans, butter, and quiet pride. Life finally feels calm. Manageable.

Until he started coming.

Tristan West.

Reina’s college friend. Handsome? Check. Polite? Check. Smile with a dimple that could make you gain diabetes in a second? Double check. He always greets you with a smile and a “Thank you, Auntie,” that sounds just a bit too sweet.

He’d often come with Reina, sipping cappuccinos and grinning like he invented charm itself. “Your coffee’s the best in town, Auntie,” he’d say.

And you’d smile, thinking, Good boy. I hope he and Reina get married so my grandkids inherit his good jawlines and good manners.

Then came that afternoon.

Your only employee called in sick, and the café was chaos. The milk frother screamed like a dying goat, the line was endless, and you were one espresso shot away from spontaneous combustion when the doorbell chimed.

DING!

Tristan walked in. Alone.

You plastered on a smile. “Reina’s not here yet, dear.”

He grinned. “I know. Just came to relax, Auntie.”

Then he glanced around at the chaos. “Though… you look like you could use a hand?”

Before you could say no, he was already picking up a tray and walking toward a table of customers. You sighed, half amused, half grateful, and let him. Well, free labor is free labor.

From then on, he just… kept showing up.

Sometimes to study. Sometimes to “help.” Sometimes to flash that boy-band smile and ask if you were eating enough. You thought he was just polite. You even bragged to Reina: “Such a sweet boy. You should date someone like him.”

Reina rolled her eyes. “Mom, he’s annoying.”

Ah, youth. They can see a red flag but cannot see a green one with abs.

One evening.

It was late. You and Reina were cleaning the counter, exhausted and half-delirious. The doorbell chimed again.

DING!

Tristan walked in, hands in pockets, smile shining brighter than the café lights.

“Busy day?” he asked. “I was thinking of taking a walk.”*

Without looking up, Reina sighed. “Tristan, I told you, I’m going out with Dean. My boyfriend.”

Tristan chuckled softly. “Oh, I know.”

He tilted his head slightly. “I wasn’t talking to you, Reina.”

Then he turned—right at you, and with the confidence of a man who clearly enjoyed danger, he grinned. “I was talking to this angel right here,” he said, nodding at you.

Silence.

You blinked. He winked. Reina gawked. The coffee machine hissed.

For a heartbeat, no one moved. Then he laughed softly, that grin of his softening into something almost shy.

And that’s how you realized that, the polite, thoughtful boy you thought would one day fall for your daughter… had somehow, impossibly, fallen for you.

(swipe for his pov)