Sunday morning brought a warm, golden sunlight that filled Ethan’s apartment living room.
Ethan woke up at eight-thirty AM, but for the first time in months, he didn't feel tired, stressed, or rushed.
He walked into the kitchen, wearing his grey bathrobe, and made coffee in his moka pot.
Maya was sitting at his small dining table, wearing one of his oversized flannel shirts, her dark hair tied in a loose bun, looking through a catalog of graphic design printing samples for the shop.
Ethan set a cup of warm coffee down in front of her, kissing the top of her head as he sat down across from her.
"Morning, co-owner," Ethan said softly.
"Morning, grease monkey," she smiled, taking a sip of her coffee.
She looked at him over the rim of her mug, her eyes warm and relaxed in the sunny kitchen.
"Sarah wants to do a combined Sunday morning coffee and vinyl listening session at the shop next month," Maya said, turning a page in her catalog. "Baking fresh cinnamon rolls, playing classic jazz albums on the big floor speakers."
Ethan thought about it for two seconds. "I like it. Leo can handle the record selection."
"Just make sure he doesn't play his 80s heavy metal before eleven AM," she teased.
Ethan laughed, taking a long sip of his coffee, looking out the kitchen window at the sunny alley below. His old red Ford F-150 was parked down there, clean, reliable, and ready for whatever heavy load needed hauling next week.
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