☕ Our Story in a Cup of Coffe

 

## **☕ Our Story in a Cup of Coffee**

It started with a cup of coffee.

Not a grand gesture, not a planned event — just a quiet moment at a small café, where two people sat across from each other, unsure of what the future would bring.

The cup between us was warm. The silence between us was gentle. And the way your eyes met mine — steady, curious, kind — said more than words ever could.

That first coffee became the beginning of many more.  

Mornings turned into routines.  

Routines turned into memories.  

And memories turned into a life shared — one sip at a time.

We celebrated good news with extra sugar.  

We comforted each other through tears over half-finished cups.  

We talked for hours, sometimes about everything, sometimes about nothing at all.  

But always, with coffee between us — our silent witness.

Even now, after all the years, the cups are still there.  

Different cafés. Different cities.  

Sometimes on quiet mornings at home.  

Other times during long drives with takeaway lids and sleepy eyes.

But it’s always the same feeling —  

Warmth.  

Closeness.  

Us.

Our story isn’t written in grand chapters or dramatic moments.  

It’s written in small, sacred pauses.  

In the steam rising between us.  

In the way we reach for the cup at the same time.  

In the way we laugh, sigh, and dream — together.

So, if anyone ever asks me what love looks like,  

I’ll simply smile and say:

**“It looks a lot like our story… in a cup of coffee.”**

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