Hello Again
Robbie
Another day, another morning.
I glanced inside. Gaby, the barista who took my order every morning, wasn’t at the counter. I willed myself some courage, gripped my book, and pushed the door open.
His eyes met mine as the bell jingled.
“Morning.” He wiped his hand on his cream apron.
My heart somersaulted, but I swallowed and approached the counter. “Good morning.”
I could swear there was a flash of something in his eyes. A twitch in his eyebrows. I furrowed my brow, but then he smiled, and my soul melted.
“I’ll be right with you.” His baritone stirred something within me.
A sort of recognition. Attention. An indescribable urge to get closer. My skin rose in goosebumps as I closed my eyes for a moment. The feel of his whisper against my neck. Commanding. Caring. Unrelenting. Loving.
I shook my head. Was it a memory? Or a fantasy I created the first day I walked into this café? The moment I laid eyes on him, the pull was strong. So strong that I’d come back every day since.
His name was Esteban. Ever since I stole a glance at his name tag, that name had been circling my mind. There was something about it. About him. Something my soul recognized, but my mind didn’t.
His blue eyes settled on the drink he was preparing, his attention on the shape he created with the creamer.
I silently watched, letting the warm ambience of the café run through me like a balm. The soft jazz mixed with the rich aroma of coffee embraced my lost heart as I clutched my book.
He wiped his hands with a towel, then came toward me. “How can I help you?”
My voice caught in my throat, and I looked down.
He leaned in, tilting his head enough to meet my eyes. “Are you all right?”
I nodded. “A latte, please. The largest I can get.”
He grabbed the twelve-ounce cup and a Sharpie. “Any milk preference?”
I put my book on the counter and picked something random from the menu. “How about almond?”
His gaze lingered on the book for an instant before returning to me. “Are you sure?”
“I…I think so. You see, I’m trying stuff. I…” Why was I blurting my life to a total stranger? But there was something about him that stirred my need to tell my story or at least explain myself. “I don’t remember some things about myself.”
He put the cup down. “I’m sorry about that.” He reached toward my hand but stopped mere inches away.
I shook my head. “Don’t be.” I touched the back of my head, rubbing the protruding scar that was the lone reminder of the day I lost myself.
Esteban lifted the cup. “Name?”
“Roberto, Robbie for short.” Why the hell was I being so weird? God. I wiped my palms on my gray jeans before pulling out my phone to pay.
I sat at my usual table and gripped my restless leg as I waited for my coffee. My heart thundered as I opened my book to the same page.
I caught him staring at me, and something woke within me. It was like a light had turned on. Like I was no longer empty.
He gifted me with a ravishing smile. “It’s almost done.”
Butterflies fluttered inside me, and I smiled back.
I raked my hair back, messing up my ponytail, which I quickly fixed into a messy man bun. I stared at my book blindly.
“Robbie.” The way my name caressed his lips was mesmerizing.
I placed the bookmark on the page beside my favorite poem.
I walked to the counter and grabbed my coffee. Our fingers slightly brushed, and a soft current traveled up my arm. “Thank you.”
I rushed to my seat and put the cup down. My breath caught as I read my name. A heart rested on top of the i, and when I took a sip, I found another on the lid.
I glanced toward Esteban and glimpsed his messy raven hair behind the espresso machine as he prepared a drink for another customer.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow I’d grow some balls and talk to him.
I glanced inside, and my stomach fell.
He wasn’t there.
I hesitated outside, but after taking the Tren Urbano to Santurce, then catching the AMA bus to get here, I needed a good cup of coffee.
“Morning, Robbie.” Gabrielle fixed her short, blond hair into a ponytail, then continued wiping the black linoleum countertop.
I grinned as she swayed to the soft acoustic guitar of the indie music playing in the background.
“Morning.” I studied the menu for longer than usual, overtaken by thoughts of where he could be.
“What will you have today?” Her bubbly attitude always lifted my spirits.
“Oh, just a latte," I paused. “Same size. Lactose-free milk.”
She grabbed the cup and wrote down my name.
The espresso machine hummed. Before turning to my usual table, I clenched my hand, languidly stroking the space below my ring finger. I never understood why I did it, but it seemed like a nervous tic I developed after I woke up.
“Gaby?”
“Yes?” She swirled the cup under the creamer.
I bit my lip. “Is Esteban coming in today?”
Her eyes beamed, but I failed to grasp why. “He called earlier. Asked me to cover for him for a couple of hours since he had some personal matters to take care of.”
“Oh.” My heart shrank. I hugged the book to my chest, pocketed my other hand, and stayed by the counter. “I’ll have that coffee to go, then.”
“Esteban told me he met you yesterday. He’s been wanting to.” The corner of her lip curled up slightly. “He’ll be in later if you want to wait. I’m sure he’d be happy to see you.” She winked at me and continued preparing my coffee.
My heart thumped against my chest. If I waited, he’d know I did it to see him, but if I didn’t, I’d surely regret it.
Could he really want to see me?
My mind went in circles about why Esteban had talked about me. Why did his coworker say those things? Maybe she was one of those people who liked to play Cupid. Perhaps I was reading more into this than there was.
Nevertheless, I grounded my courage. “I’ll wait.” My stomach growled. “Add a croissant with strawberry jam to that order, please.”
She smiled widely. “Sure thing!”
Maybe this day wouldn’t be as gloomy as it seemed.
The sky turned gray, and the rain hadn’t ceased for the past hour.
I stared down at my empty cup, then looked around. Maybe he wouldn’t come after all. I stood to leave.
The bell jingled, and my heart flipped.
Esteban shook the water from his umbrella and placed it in the basket in the corner. “Hey, Gaby. Thanks for covering for me.” He walked behind the counter, pulled on his apron, and kissed her cheek.
“No problem.” She jerked her chin at me, then said something to Esteban I couldn’t make out.
The room stilled. My breath caught when Esteban turned his face my way, his eyes smiling. His dimples turned my body to mush.
In three long strides, he reached me, stopping only a couple of feet away. He raked his raven hair back and rubbed his nape. “Hey.”
“Hi.”
“Gaby told me you asked for me.” His blue eyes seemed brighter than usual.
I looked at Gaby, and she waved comically at me from behind the counter. I couldn’t help but smile.
I shifted from one foot to the other. “I was just wondering if you were okay.”
His mouth twitched. “I was taking care of something.”
“Oh. No need to explain.” I glanced at my watch. The doctor’s appointment. “Shit. I have to go.”
“Oh.” His cheery tone turned flat, and he stepped aside.
When I passed by him, he grabbed my arm. The minute his flesh touched mine, all of my senses came alive.
“Will you come tomorrow? I’m off at two.”
It was a simple question that required a simple answer, but for me, it was all I’d dreamed about during the past two weeks. My whole body ignited, starting from the place where his skin touched mine. It was electric.
Something familiar stirred within me. A tinge of sweetness masked behind the dark and rich coffee aroma hit me. His scent was intoxicating and clung to him in a dangerous way. An urge to pull him closer burned within me, but I pushed it down.
His hold slackened. “I’m sorry to be so blunt. It’s just…I’d really like to get to know you better.”
My whole world turned upside down at his words. It was happening.
I turned just enough to glimpse his flushed face. “I’ll be here.”
“Perfect.” His gorgeous smile reached his eyes, and he released my arm.
His touch burned beneath my skin for the rest of the day.
I couldn’t wait till tomorrow.
“So you’re remembering?” Dr. Echevarría asked.
I nodded. “Voices. Moments. Scents. I can’t catch them, though. It’s as if they’re just out of reach.”
The doctor smiled. “Then it’s only a matter of time. Have you changed your routine lately? Have you seen someone? Visited a new place?”
I touched my arm where Esteban had gripped earlier. I could still feel the warmth of his hand. “I have, and it almost feels like I’ve been there.”
“That’s a good sign. If you’re already going to places and recognizing stuff, that means your brain is making sense of things and connecting the dots.
As for your physical health, the tests came back clear.
Your brain is fully healed, and your body is back to normal.
” She closed my file and rested her elbows on it.
“This will be our last meeting, but I’ll leave an open visit for when your memories come back.
I’d like to see you then.” She stood and stretched her hand toward me.
There was a time when she believed I wouldn’t remember. She’d told me some patients never recovered from amnesia or that it could take years. To hear that having these moments was a positive sign changed everything.
I shook her hand. “Thanks. You’ve been so good to my family and me. I’ll visit when everything comes back.”
She’d been paramount to my healing process, always there to tell us which step to take next.
Sometimes I was tempted to ask her about my past. She had to know things I didn’t, but based on everything she’d explained, I was the one who had to remember.
And she’d made sure my loved ones knew the importance of letting me heal on my own.
Memories, she said, were easy to change and manipulate, and the perspective of other people could affect my perception of the past. Only I could remember them as they were.
She walked to the door and opened it for me. “It’s been a pleasure getting to know you, Robbie. I know we’ve never talked about this, but you have wonderful people waiting for you to remember them. They loved you.”
My chest grew lighter at her words, and something deep within me stirred. There were people I’d forgotten. People who loved me.
I remembered Mom’s words: “You were so happy.”
What was I missing? Who was the man I drew again and again? And those dreams. Could they be real memories? Of eating out and salsa dancing. Of house music and lasers. Of laughter and friends.