The door opened and I was greeted with the same smell of caffeine and muffins. With a smile on my face I entered the cafe. Papa Jone's Cafe was the best in my town.
"Good Morning, Sapphire!" Said Anna. The manager.
"Good Morning, Anna!" I replied with a small smile.
"The usual?" She asked and I nodded.
Today was a beautiful day. Sun shining bright. Birds chirping. It was early, so there were only two three people sitting in the cafe. This cafe has a lot of memories. My childhood memories. Me and my friends late night parties. And memories with him.
I returned from New York just now. And the first thing I did was to come here and have my favorite coffee with my favorite muffins.
The only reason I agreed to go to New York was him. He was the one who forced me to go there. Because every part of this place reminds me of him.
I don't want to remember him. It's been ten years. Ten years since that happened. Ten years since he left me.
And you might be thinking that I haven't moved on. I have. But moving on doesn't mean forgetting. I haven't forgotten him. And I don't think I ever will.
Who can forget the one person who used to be your life.
I still remember the first time we met. Here in this cafe. I was the waitress and he was the billionaire. The perfect clichés love story where the billionaire asked me to be his fake wife.
Yes! He actually did. But then, as every story, we started falling in love and then confessed.
And just like in every story, the character suffered from amnesia. But I wasn't the one to have it. He was.
He suffered from amnesia and forgot me.
He forgot me and our love. He denied he ever saw me and asked me to get out of his life. But I tried.
I tried so hard to make him remember who I was. But I think that wasn't enough.
He is the only person who I love. I haven't married since then, because I am still married to him. He is still my husband. He refused to believe that I was wife so I never divorced him.
You might be thinking I should have shown him our marriage certificate. But I was scared.
Scared of the fact that he might ask for a divorce. I didn't want to risk that.
So left.
Forever.
Then you must be thinking why I am here.
Let me answer.
I am here for this.
The door of the cafe opened and a greek god looking man entered with an angelic looking girl in his arms.
There he comes. Rikkard.
That's his name.
Rikkard. My Rikkard.
My love.
My phone started to ring and I was brought out of my trance.
Adrian.
It read. He is my son.
He is our son.
And I am raising him alone. But with our memories.