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The bazaar bustled with life and was filled with colorful fabrics, exotic spices, and vendors selling their wares. Rows and rows of products line the street for the event he forgot the name of, filled with people bargaining for a discount or window shopping for those hoping to buy something to support small businesses. And that was exactly the reason why Wilbur Soot was drifting between the stalls and booths, casually dropping in on conversations between the sellers and their clients.
Amidst the chaos, Wilbur’s brain became fixated on a stunning piece of jewelry, sparkling and twinkling in the heat of the sun that summer afternoon.
Normally, Wilbur Soot does not easily give in to his impulse buying. Out of all the booths he passed, only this particular item seemed to have caught his attention, specifically a ring, that shimmered from the corner of his eye. Wilbur’s first instinct was to check it out for some reason. It wasn’t that he was in any current relationship or had someone in mind at the moment. It just seemed like a silly thought that he entertained that silly afternoon. Wilbur had no immediate need for it, and this purchase wouldn’t affect his budget. It was something he would tell himself after previously taking home small trinkets and receiving his bizarre online orders.
It was a pair of inexpensive rings that looked realistic enough to pass for engagement rings. He would have gone for the plastic ones on display, but the merchant was insistent he take it. He claimed it would bring him good luck for the rest of the day, or the rest of his life if he so wished. Now, Wilbur wasn’t one to believe in superstitions, but it wouldn’t hurt to try, right?
“This comes in two and may be the last one yet.” the merchant held the small box in his hand up to Wilbur’s face for a better look—it was a pair of gold and silver rings adorned with blue and yellow shimmering gemstones and delicate engravings, which were a testament to the craftsmanship. “The design is very unique, no?”
“I guess it is very… distinct.”
“Yes! Yes! It would look good on you and your unique sense of style.”
The merchant offers a fair price to Wilbur for being handsome and having a great sense of fashion, throwing in a free item to sweeten the deal. The compliment made Wilbur intrigued and genuinely considers whether it is worth buying.
The merchant proceeds to give a sales pitch, highlighting the unique qualities of the product. He further explains that the one-of-a-kind ring is handmade by a local artisan who loved diamonds. A friend of his, he would say. His words are persuasive, and Wil is finally convinced that the deal is a good bargain.
“This was fun. I’d like a pair then.” Wilbur smiled, handing over a couple of paper bills and thanked him for entertaining him with a story, which brings a big smile to the merchant’s face. It was clear that the sale made his day. Then, Wilbur was off elsewhere.
Wilbur slipped on the rings on his left hand. It felt… odd around his finger. Gave him a sense of being tied to someone when there really isn’t a someone. The weight felt welcomed and comforting. He runs his fingertips over the smoothness of the ring’s surface, his touch becoming attuned to its intricately engraved details.
As he passed down the sunlit streets, Wilbur couldn’t help but admire the way the rings on his finger caught light, casting dancing reflections on any surface it could find. He didn’t know he could get a sense of joy from something so small. It’s really the little things in life that make you love joy.
The further he strolled down the quiet alley, the soft pitter-patter of raindrops broke the silence, slowly intensifying into a gentle shower. Almost immediately, Wilbur swiftly maneuvered his way under the shelter of a nearby awning. It was weird, because it never rains in Coronado.
In a hurry, Wilbur removed and tucked the small bands of gold and silver in his pocket, in fear of his rings bearing faint marks of tarnish due to its cheap quality. Wilbur had to find somewhere to stay and wait out the sudden downpour.
It was becoming more and more difficult to comprehend the signs that he passed by on the street. The rain was coming down on him in dense sheets, obscuring his vision and making it hard for him to see the establishments in front of him. To make matters worse, Wilbur realized that he had forgotten his glasses at home, with nothing but his wallet and a couple of loose change in his pockets.
As Wilbur squinted at the signs, trying to make out the names of the businesses around him, he spotted a cozy-looking interior that resembled a café. He figured he might as well take his chances there. He weaved through the crowd of people once he was out of the alley and within range of the café whose name he could not read.
Pushing the door open, the clamor of rain and wind quickly gave way to a gentle melody of soft conversations and the comforting aroma infused with the sweet scent of freshly baked cakes, mingling with the rich fragrance of brewed coffee. The space was a haven of culinary delight, with cakes of all shapes, sizes, and flavors displayed like edible masterpieces.
The café was bathed in warm, soft lighting that accentuated the vibrant colors of the cakes. The display cases were adorned with an array of treats that beckoned to him. Each cake seemed to have its own personality, its own story waiting to be savored. The display was a kaleidoscope of flavors and textures. Towering layer cakes, their surfaces adorned with a range of minimal to intricate designs, boasted layers of velvety sponge, luscious creams, and sumptuous fillings. Cupcakes, adorned with swirls of buttercream and delicate sprinkles, offered bite-sized indulgence. Each cake held its own charm, inviting him to explore a symphony of flavors and textures that awaited within.
The atmosphere of the café was a delightful blend of charm and comfort. The gentle chatter of customers and the clinking of teaspoons against porcelain created a soothing soundtrack, behind the subtle background music. The air hummed with anticipation and delight as patrons chatted animatedly, their eyes dancing from cake to cake, each choice a delicious dilemma.
The warm lighting inside engulfed the space like a soft embrace, casting a golden glow on the worn wooden tables and plush seating arrangements. The gentle flicker of the vintage light fixtures lent an inviting ambiance, casting dancing shadows that seemed to sway in time with the mellow tunes drifting from hidden speakers.
The contrast between the tranquil interior and the tempestuous world beyond the windows was evident the longer Wilbur gazed at the raindrops that ruthlessly pelted the windowpane, determined to strike the glass with a relentless fury. The view of the streets were blurred and outside were those caught in the downpour. Gusts of wind whipped through the air, rattling the awnings and scattering leaves in a wild ballet.
Inside, however, time seemed to slow down. The soft illumination cast a flattering glow on the faces of the patrons, accentuating their smiles and highlighting the animated discourse taking place.
All but one man. Wilbur’s attention was drawn to a lone figure who swung the door open to the quaint shop, drenched and found himself in the same predicament as the others within the establishment. The man, also soaked to the bone, exuded a sigh of simultaneous relief and weariness the minute he found shelter from the abrupt storm. Their eyes met briefly, exchanging a shared understanding of their shared plight.
As the chill of the room seeped into his bones, Wilbur longed for the comforting warmth of a hot beverage. He simply couldn’t find the right timing to do so. Just as he mustered the resolve to approach the barista in his wet socks, the customers rushed in from their tables, forming a queue. He patiently watched as others received their steaming cups of comfort, envy coursing through his veins instead of his desperately needed caffeine.
The counter momentarily cleared, he stepped forward and was ready to place his order. Finally, he could read the menu board clearly and decided to try a latte and a piece of pastry. But as he made his approach, the figure that caught his attention cut through the line, standing with an air of importance. In an instant, the barista’s attention shifted to him.
The sweet scent of vanilla and butter enveloped Alex’s senses, temporarily providing a comforting distraction from the reality he faced. The once joyous occasion of his impending wedding had been marred by ceaseless arguments and an irrevocably strained relationship, leading to the difficult decision to call off the engagement.
As he approached the counter, the shop owner knew what to do and Alex did not have to wait the line. Thank god. He wanted to leave the place the second he stepped foot in it. The shop owner greeted him with a warm smile, unaware of the turmoil brewing within him. Her eyes held a glimmer of curiosity, hinting at the stories she had heard from countless customers before him.
It was now or never. Alex summoned all his courage to explain his situation, his voice tinged with pain and regret. She listened attentively, her empathetic gaze acknowledging the pain etched across his face. It was a familiar tale to her, as she had witnessed many couples enter her shop seeking solace or closure.
Understanding the gravity of the moment, she led Alex to a quiet corner by the booth, away from prying eyes and the joyful bustle of other customers. She gently inquired about the details of the cake order, navigating the delicate terrain of a once-promising celebration now reduced to ashes.
Together, they reviewed the paperwork, each line a painful reminder of the love that had faltered. Alex’s fingers trembled slightly as he signed the necessary forms, formally releasing the bakery from their commitment. All but one. “Where is the… other paper?”
“Oh, it seems a page is missing. Wait a moment, I’ll get the rest of the papers for your order.”
She swiftly maneuvered through the crowded shop, determined to retrieve the missing document for her client. With each step, she disappeared into the depths of the office, leaving him alone in the unoccupied booth. The isolation within the bustling café was palpable, as if a protective bubble had formed around him.
Each table seemed to be claimed, occupied by patrons engaged in their own worlds. It became apparent that this booth was the only table left unoccupied, a coincidence that further emphasized his loneliness and vulnerability in that moment. Surrounded by the buzz of chatter and the clinking of cups, Alex felt a sense of detachment from the lively ambiance—its pulse seemed distant, allowing him to retreat into his own thoughts and reflections.
Wilbur stood there in his queue and watched as their conversation seeming to go on for longer than necessary had ended. He reached into his soaked pocket to retrieve his wallet and pay for his coffee until Wilbur’s fingers grazed against the smooth surface of the ring, causing it to slip from his grasp. Instinctively, Wilbur was quick to catch it before it could fall and carefully slid it onto his finger, the ring now securely in place. Unfortunately, his rings were not spared from the wetness of his clothes.
The aroma of brewed cocoa beans filled his nostrils, heightening his desire for a steaming cup of his own. As he stood there, waiting for the barista to acknowledge him, and spared a few glances at the man in the corner taking off his jacket. He couldn’t discern the nature of their talk, but it definitely took up an unreasonable amount of time. This sparked his curiosity further.
Finally, a bald barista with a very smooth scalp emerged from the kitchen to accommodate him, skillfully crafted delicious drinks, now grateful for the warmth of the cup in his hands.
Balancing his hot cup of coffee in his hands and his plate of croissants in the other, Wilbur made his way back to his seat, hoping to find solace in the familiar corner of the café. However, as he approached, his heart sank when he noticed that another pair of drenched individuals had claimed the remaining unoccupied seat.
Disappointment mingled with fatigue as he glanced around, realizing that all the other tables were occupied as well. Wilbur didn’t want to wander aimlessly, carrying his steaming beverage, so he mustered the courage to approach the man in the corner. Taking a deep breath, he politely tapped the man’s shoulder and asked, “Hey, um, is it alright if I shared this table with you?”
The man turned to him, surprise flickering in his eyes. “Of course, yeah, sure. Please, have a seat.” the man replied, gesturing to the empty chair opposite him.
Grateful for the man’s kindness, Wilbur thanked him and settled into the cozy corner the man was in, a steaming cup of coffee cradled between his hands, the warm lighting wrapped around him like a snuggly blanket. As they sat there, the sound of rain tapping against the café windows provided a gentle background melody to the ongoing conversations of couples and families.
“I don’t mean to pry but—” Wilbur started, staring pointedly at the sheets of paper splayed on Alex’s side of the table.
Alex was pulled out of his thoughts and followed Wilbur’s gaze. With deft hands, he swiftly gathered and organized the documents into a neat arrangement to conceal any specific details. “These? I don’t want to talk about it, if you don’t mind.”
“Okay. Sorry for asking.” the taller man apologized, wrapping his hands around the warm ceramic of his coffee cup. He raised it to his lips and took a long, satisfying sip, the rich aroma and flavor of the coffee whisking him away from the cares and worries that had accompanied him throughout the day.
With a contented sigh, Wilbur lowered the cup back down to the table. Alex’s gaze caught the glint of a ring adorning his finger. A twinge of envy and pain coursed through him, a bitter reminder of his own recent misfortunes. Emotions swirled within him, a blend of frustration, longing, and resentment.
“You’re… married? Or are you like, engaged?” Alex blurted out.
“Oh, no, no. Marriage is the last thing on my mind at the moment,” Wilbur admitted, which Alex responded with a raise of a brow. “I got this pair for a bargain. You can have one, if you like.”
“You bought a pair for yourself?” Alex’s brow furrowed in confusion as he listened to his explanation.
“Yeah, it was a funny story actually. This jeweler had lots of tales for it. I genuinely do not know what came over me to buy these,” Wilbur patted down his pant pocket to feel for the other ring. “Hold on a second, I can’t seem to find—”
Wilbur’s heart skipped a beat as he watched the ring slip from his pocket, flying out towards the semi-wet tiled floor. Without hesitation, he lunged forward, his hand outstretched to catch the ring before it could hit the floor.
In an instant, the situation took on a whole new meaning. Wilbur found himself on one knee, a vulnerable position that seemed to mirror a proposal. Alex’s eyes widened further, his expression a mix of surprise and shock. Whispers rippled through the room as onlookers tried to make sense of the unexpected turn of events. “This isn’t what it looks like—”
“Take me to dinner first, Jesus.” Alex quipped in a light-hearted tone, hoping to brighten the mood. Wilbur chuckled at his remark.
“S-Sorry about that,” sheepishly, Wilbur retreated to his seat, a tinge of embarrassment coloring his cheeks before handing the golden band to Alex, which he wore on his ring finger immediately. They match now. “I never quite got your name.”
“It’s… Alex.”
“I’m Wilbur.”
There suddenly descended an air of silence between them, and Wilbur could feel Alex’s interest in continuing the conversation waning. Wilbur really couldn’t blame him for finding him boring. Or maybe it was a different matter entirely, which most likely involved the papers in front of him that caused him so much misery. Wilbur couldn’t shake the feeling of discomfort that came with the frown on his face. “Will you be here for long?”
It was small talk, but it was a start. “I’m just here to fill out some paperwork, then I’m gone. But the lady is taking ages in there.” Impatience tinged his voice, casting glances between his watch and the wall clock.
“I say, if she isn’t out here in the next ten minutes, I suggest we find a way to entertain ourselves. How about we pass the time by asking each other questions?” Wilbur proposed, a mischievous glint in his eyes. The rain persisted, relentless in its downpour, showing no signs of letting up or ceasing anytime soon. It wasn’t like Alex had anything else to do, and he knew he had to kill time somehow.
“Alright, let’s give it a shot. But I’ll go first,” Alex agreed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Not far away, another couple caught Alex’s attention. These two men, both wearing glasses, were capturing precious moments of their own child. With beaming smiles, they took turns snapping photographs, cherishing each frame that immortalized their little one’s innocent charm. The child, adorned with glasses and braids, radiated a contagious happiness, mirroring the joy reflected in their fathers’ proud expressions. “Why is marriage the last thing on your mind? Have you ever thought about settling down or having kids?”
Wilbur paused for a moment, reflecting on the question, before meeting her gaze with a thoughtful smile. "It’s definitely something that has crossed my mind on multiple occasions, and worth giving a thought or two. But…”
“But what?” Alex tilted his head, intrigued by his perspective.
“My life right now is unpredictable. It’s not fair to drag someone else into that kind of life,” Wilbur never thought he’d ever be asked this question. From his own family, sure. He leaned back, his eyes drifting to the croissant as he gathered his words carefully. “I understand the realities of marriage—it often leads either to a nasty divorce or to spending a lifetime growing old with each other. Seen it with my parents. I’ve had my heart broken at least a dozen times, and I just don’t think I’m cut out for a committed relationship.”
“But you are open to dating?”
“Depends on the person. To answer your question, well, yes, why the fuck not? Hey, that counts as two already, it’s my turn,” Wilbur chuckled, pushing the plate of croissants across to Alex. “Would you like some?” Alex accepted his offer with gratitude and eagerly took a bite of the pastry.
“While we’re on the topic of marriage and relationships, have you ever been in love with a special someone?” as the question hung in the air, Alex’s demeanor visibly shifted at the unexpected question.
Alex’s previously relaxed posture tensed up, and his eyes grew solemn. He took a deep breath before responding, “I was engaged once.” he uttered softly, his words carrying the weight of unspoken stories and lost dreams.
The atmosphere in the room grew heavy with emotion, and Wilbur knew that he needed to tread lightly. The wound seemed too fresh and a past that he had likely tried to forget, so asking about how his past relationship and why it ultimately did not work out was not an option.
Sitting at a table adjacent to theirs, Alex observed a heartwarming scene unfold before his eyes. A couple sat together, their attention fully devoted to their child who wore an adorable baseball cap. Laughter filled the air as these buffed out men attempted to wipe frosting off her forehead, their faces displaying a mix of bemusement and confusion. Their attempts to remove it were met with playful resistance from their giggling daughter, who found the situation rather amusing.
“What would you name your kids though?” Alex quickly changed the subject, clearly redirecting the conversation into anything else but his relationship status.
“If I had a daughter, I’d name her Tallulah,” Wilbur explained, telling the story as if he’d rehearsed it a thousand times. Which he did. “My mom already had thought about my names whether I was a girl or a boy. Tallulah was going to be my name if I was born a girl.”
“That sounds thoughtful of her. Your mom’s really sweet. You must’ve gotten it from her then.” the shorter man stopped to wink at Wilbur, which made him a blushing mess.
“Y-Yes, it is. Of course.” Wilbur stammered, the compliment catching him off his guard. “And you? What would you name your child?”
“Haven’t gotten around to that yet. But Tilin, maybe.”
Out of nowhere, the flow of their conversation suddenly came to an abrupt pause. The barista-waiter approached their table, his hands gently balancing a tray adorned with delectable slices of cake. His arrival was swift and unexpected.
“Hi, I’m Roier! How are you guys doing? Can I get you guapos anything? Would you like to try out our free cake samples? We have this thing going on for…” He trailed off mid-sentence, his words dissipating into silence as his gaze wandered in search of the promotional poster.
Wilbur strained his eyes to read the promotional material, but the words remained blurry and vague, offering only a glimpse of the name of the establishment. Duckin’ Delicious.
“We’re doing great, thanks for asking.” Wilbur nodded with enthusiasm.
“Sure, yeah, we’d love to try it out.” Alex replied. With a polite nod and appreciative smiles, they graciously accepted the waiter’s generous offer.
Roier’s eyes sparkled with excitement as he sprinted off to the counter, eager to get his hands on some plates, forks, and, most importantly, cake slices. He dodged past those who were still standing in line to place their orders. Within a few minutes, he returned to their table with a pair of plates, forks, and several slices of cake to try. As the samples were presented, they marveled at the artistry and attention to detail that had gone into each slice.
The cakes were exquisitely decorated, with each slice looking more tempting than the last. Alex’s eyes widened in surprise as he took a bite of the first sample. The cake was moist, fluffy, and bursting with flavor. Roier watched with satisfaction as Wilbur and Alex savored each bite. Roier felt a sense of pride in his job, knowing that he had contributed to making their day just a little bit sweeter.
At first, they exchanged pleasantries about the quality of the cakes and the variety of flavors available. Wilbur and Alex resumed their chatter and laughed, the initial awkwardness dissipated, and they began to feel more at ease with each other. The free cake samples were a pleasant bonus.
With genuine interest, Roier leaned in, eyes alight with anticipation. “So, when’s the big day?”
Wilbur nearly choked on his cake, desperately attempting to compose himself and find the right words. His companion remained silent, having no energy and offering no defense against the assumptions placed upon them.
“Pardon?”
“You know, tying the knot. Marriage and all that stuff?” Roier said, a little confused, looking pointedly between their rings. Wilbur quickly processed what was going on and what this man was hinting at.
It was too late when he realized he had unwittingly stepped into a coffee and wedding cake shop. Panic surged within him as he desperately tried to clarify the misunderstanding, assuring them that he and Alex were currently not a couple. Yet.
“We’re sorry but there is a bit of a misunderstanding—I-I mean don’t get me wrong, Alex, as lovely you are, we are not exactly—” Wilbur stopped himself there. “We just met, but if given the time to get to know each other—you’re really lovely to be with.”
There was a light shade of red on the shorter man’s face before it spread to his ears.
As he observed the interaction between the two, a momentary confusion flickered across his face. Roier’s eyes darted back and forth between them. In that brief instant, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had stumbled upon an engaged couple or not.
Immersed in his own musings, Roier became a silent witness to their dynamic, reading into the gestures and expressions that passed between them. Roier continued to observe them, his imagination painting vivid pictures of a love story unfolding.
Wedding bells rang in his mind, a whimsical soundtrack to the shared moments and stolen glances that unfolded before his eyes. Perhaps, he thought, their story was on the cusp of a new chapter, with vows and promises exchanged in the not-too-distant future. Whether or not wedding bells would ring for this particular duo remained uncertain until then.
“I apologize for the trouble of bringing us these cake samples. Let me pay for the cakes we ate.” Wilbur said sincerely, a touch of regret in his voice as he was about to fish out his wallet and pay the bill.
“Did I forget to mention they’re literally free samples?”
The pair shared a look with each other as he did make sense.
“Hey there, welcome to Duckin’ Delicious!” Roier dashed off to greet the newcomers, his voice laced with genuine invitation, as he stood ready to guide them through the menu.
In not less than a second after Roier left their table, the lady from earlier, Jaiden, emerged from the back office. “Apparently, the last page was our copy to keep. I guess you’re all good to go, Mr. Alex.”
Relief washed over Alex, and they exchanged glances, grateful for the resolution to their paperwork ordeal. “Thank you so much for your help, I appreciate it.”
“No problem! If you have any more questions, you can always come back here and ask me.” with a final nod of appreciation, they bid Jaiden farewell as she left their booth, ready to move on with their day, Alex’s minds no longer burdened by the unfinished paperwork.
“I can’t believe their name is Duckin’ Delicious. I mean, the play on words! Sorry if it’s boring but I just feel the need to let this out—whoever thought of the name is, honest to god, a fucking genius.”
“What if I told you I knew who named this café?”
“Let me guess—you?”
Alex was already planning to leave; though, he couldn’t find it in himself to get up his seat and march out into the flooded pavement. Not when Wilbur was starting up another conversation. So, he stayed a while longer for Wilbur.
And before they knew it, the cakes were gone.
In the midst of their animated conversation, a small beam of sunlight found its way through a gap in the clouds, illuminating Alex’s face at the exact moment he let his guard down and erupted into laughter, bringing life to his eyes for the first time that day. The warm glow accentuated his features, casting gentle shadows that played across his smiling face. Wilbur was mesmerized.
As the light washed over him, partially obscuring his vision, Alex squinted, momentarily adjusting to the sudden brightness. The sunlight embraced him, casting a subtle halo around his figure.
Wilbur, too, was momentarily captivated by the sight, appreciating the rare glimpse of Alex’s unmasked emotions. It was in that fleeting moment, when laughter and sunlight intertwined, that Wilbur wanted to stop time and stay there with him forever.
And as the sunbeam gradually shifted, indicating that the storm had finally ceased, Alex’s laughter subsided. His squinted eyes gradually relaxed, and he knew it was time to go.
Wilbur saw Alex preparing to leave, and he inquired in a quiet tone. “You’re leaving?”
Alex’s gaze met his, and he immediately saw regret in her eyes. “Yes, I’m sorry but I have to get back. Thanks for the treat. I loved talking to you, though.”
“Thanks, Alex. This day had been wonderful with you.” Wilbur could have said so much more but he had to practice his restraint, otherwise Alex would think he was weirder than he already was.
Wilbur nodded, attempting to conceal his lingering sadness when he saw Alex gather his belongings and made a move towards the door. Before they went their separate ways, they decided to exchange their social media handles and were already looking forward to picking up where they last left off the next time they had the chance to meet again.
Wilbur accompanied him to the door, and that was when Alex glanced back at Wilbur briefly, a wistful smile playing on his lips and waved him a final goodbye.
Wilbur watched him fade into the distance, his thumb mindlessly rubbing the silver band around his finger, an invisible ache now weighing upon his heart.
Sunlight cascaded through the windows, casting a vibrant glow upon the scene they were leaving behind.