The café wafted with the fragrance of freshly brewed coffee. I picked up my order and settled into a cozy nook. I sipped my drink, fully engrossed in a book.

“PJ?!” Your baritone voice jolted me, and I was struck by your eyes that gleamed like topaz.

“Yes, I’m PJ, Phillipa Jenner,” I replied.

“Well, I’m PJ too. Peter Jenkins. I had ordered a Latte. But the cup had the Americano box checked. I enquired the barista, and he said that two different orders with the same initials marked might have led to the confusion and pointed me towards you.” You explained.

“Oops! I didn’t realize. Pardon me. I wish to fix this confusion.”

“Never mind. You enjoy your drink…and mine. I’m heading home,” you said, handing out your cup of coffee too.

Our conversation continued.

“Come on, Peter, your Latte is on me.”

“Alrighty!”

I went to the counter, but unfortunately, they were closed for the next hour.

“Peter, they are closed for the next hour.”

“Well! You had agreed to fix this,” you said in a sing-a-sing voice and suggested we go to another café down the block.

As we walked, we spoke about Manhattan’s unpredictable weather, our love for coffee, and other mundane things.

I noticed a café to my right.

“Let’s go here,” I said, failing to notice a small pit on the walkway. I slipped and sprained my right ankle. As you lifted me gently, our eyes locked for a few seconds, and I felt an inexplicable surge of emotions.

“I’m fine. Let me grab your latte from the cafe,” I urged.

“Come on, Phillipa!  My coffee can wait. You are limping and require first aid. My apartment is right opposite the cafe. Come.” You seemed genuine, and I obliged.

While in your apartment, you applied an ice pack and sprayed some Bengay. I rested, and you also made me some coffee. We had a rather animated conversation.

“I’ve got to go,” I said after thanking you for all the hospitality.

 Only after exiting, I realized that I had missed my handbag. I came back. When you handed me the bag, you gently stroked my palm with your lingering fingertips.

“Phillipa, I love your smile,” you said, buying more time. You had a mesmerizing effect on me, and I froze. You then gently brushed the nape of my neck, pulling me closer. Our lips bridged the existing distance. Oh! The electrifying chemistry was irresistible. One thing led to another, and before we realized, in a matter of a few months, we had become inseparable lovers. The following year, we even got married.

 “And Peter, it has been more than forty years now. We are still going strong. What say you?”

“Yes, darling! Thanks to the mixed-up coffee. That’s how it all began.” Peter looked handsome despite his toothless grin and pale hospital gown.

“Next time you give me your version,” I chuckled, hiding my tears as he drifted towards an eternal slumber peacefully.

***

Word Count : 499 

This story has been written in response to the prompt #five0025, #butterflyeffect by Artoonsinn Writers room.

PROMPT

A minor choice/incident…for example a missed bus, a dropped key etc at that particular moment changes everything.

 

Picture Credit : Pixabay