Page 37 of Beanful Wishes

I've achieved my career goal, landed my dream job. So why does it feel like I'm losing something precious in the process?

The familiar chime of Coffee Loft's bell feels bittersweet as I step inside. It's after hours, and the usually bustling café is eerily quiet. Jake stands behind the counter, his hands busy wiping down the espresso machine.

"Hey," I say softly, my voice sounding too loud in the empty space.

Jake looks up, a mix of emotions flickering across his face before settling into a warm smile. "Hey yourself. Lofty Spiced Vanilla Latte?"

I nod, grateful for this small bit of normalcy. We don't speak as he prepares the drink, the whir of the machine filling the silence between us. When he hands me the mug, our fingers brush, the familiar sensation making my heart ache.

We settle into our usual corner, the Wishing Wall looming behind us, a silent witness to the conversation we're both dreading.

"So," Jake begins, his voice careful. "New York, huh?"

I take a sip of my latte, buying time. "It's an amazing opportunity."

Jake nods, his eyes never leaving mine. "It is. You deserve it, Sophia. You're going to do incredible things there."

His sincerity makes this even harder. "I don't know what to do. This job, it's everything I've ever wanted professionally. But you, the Wishing Wall, what we've built here... It means so much to me."

Jake reaches across the table, taking my hand in his. "I know. But we have to be realistic. My life, my work... It's here inWilmington. And your new job, it's going to be demanding. We can't expect to fly back and forth every other weekend."

Tears prick the corners of my eyes. "So what are you saying?"

He takes a deep breath, and I can see the pain in his eyes. "Maybe we need to take a break. At least for now. Give you a chance to focus on your new job, to really dive into this opportunity without worrying about me. About us."

The words hit me like a physical blow, even though I know he's right. "A break," I repeat, the words tasting bitter on my tongue.

Jake squeezes my hand. "I love you, Sophia. That's not going to change. But I can't ask you to give up this dream for me, and I can't leave the Wishing Wall. Not now, when we're making such a difference here."

I nod, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. We sit in silence for a while, both lost in our own thoughts, our hands still intertwined on the table.

Finally, I stand, knowing if I don't leave now, I might never find the strength to go. Jake walks me to the door, and we pause on the threshold.

"I love you," I whisper, looking up into those blue eyes I've come to know so well.

Jake cups my face gently, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. "I love you too. Always."

Weeks later, I find myself walking through Central Park, the crisp autumn air nipping at my cheeks. New York is so different from Wilmington—bigger, louder, more impersonal. The park is beautiful, with its colorful leaves and winding paths, but it lacks the intimate charm of Wilmington's riverfront.

As I watch a group of children chasing each other across a lawn, I'm reminded of the kids at the Reading Oasis. I wonder how the Fall Festival this weekend will go and if Jake's managed to fulfill any new wishes.

My phone buzzes with a message from my producer about an upcoming assignment. This is what I wanted, isn't it? The fast-paced world of national news, the chance to tell important stories.

But as I look around at the unfamiliar faces rushing by, I feel a sense of longing for the community I left behind. For the first time since I arrived in New York, I allow myself to wonder: Did I make the right choice?

Chapter Seventeen

Jake

The early morning light filters through the windows of Coffee Loft when I wipe down the counter for what feels like the hundredth time. I've been here since four, unable to sleep, my mind a constant whirl of thoughts and plans.

"Jake," Kathryn's voice cuts through my reverie. "When was the last time you actually slept?"

I shrug, not meeting her concerned gaze. "I got a few hours last night. There's just so much to do with the Fall Festival coming up."

Kathryn sighs, gently prying the cleaning cloth from my hands. "You can't keep going like this. You're running yourself into the ground."

Before I can protest, the bell above the door chimes. Elena walks in, her arms laden with books for our latest Reading Oasis expansion. "Morning, you two! Jake, you look terrible."

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