Coffee Shop Cuddles and Letters in Stories

   My favorite coffee is from a little café that me and Max lovingly nicknamed Mugged, he would always call me on his way back to our house and say with a chuckle, "Baby, I got mugged." It used to drive me crazy, I was always worried that something would happen and he'd get hurt walking home on his own. I have been to Mugged twice since Max died, the first time I cried the entire time, the second time I just kinda stared blankly at all of the couples around me. I couldn't cry, I just kept replaying memories of me and Max cuddled in one of the oversized armchairs that feel far too big now while we read to each other or made up stories about the people passing by.

          I always used to order hot chocolate with tiny marshmallows and sip Max's latte, even though he would swear not to give me any. He would settle into one of the big chairs and pull me into his lap before offering me his cup. "I don't know why you don't just order lattes for yourself silly," he would nuzzle my neck and kiss my cheek. "Because then I wouldn't be able to have hot chocolate and a latte," I would giggle and kiss his forehead.

          Today I got a latte and headed home to go read another one of the books Max piled around the house, always trying to convince me to read one after he was done. I've found that every time I'm reading through one of the books he wanted me to read when I start to get bored, there's little notes in the margins written in Max's perfect loopy writing. They're smart assed little remarks about my opinions and they're always accurate. I always wondered why he would scribble in the books he read and hide them away when I was around.