They met in a café at 8:17 on a sunny Tuesday morning.
Whenever Theo thought of Audrey, he could always smell freshly roasted coffee in his nose, just the same as when he first laid eyes on her.
The scent of thick, rich espresso, brewed dark and strong.
And while he could still taste the chocolate from her lips at the park, feel the popcorn between his fingers while they watchedCasablancaat his favorite theater, see the way the bright orange neon sign he’d made for Tío’s taco truck glowed against her skin back when he was first beginning to suspect that maybe, just maybe, there was something there, it was always coffee that reminded him of her the most.
Reminded him that maybe life was good after all.
That maybe it wasn’t bitter.
That maybe it was actually sweet.
It was why he’d chosen this city, and that spot.
Because this way, they would always have Paris—and the luxurious scent of coffee floating in theair.
