-POV Derby
The coffee was perfect again.
Jordan made it exactly the way I liked it — black, one sugar, poured into the chipped blue mug I kept on the top shelf because it was the only one that felt like mine. He didn’t ask. He just knew. He slid it across the kitchen counter toward me with the same quiet certainty he used for everything else these days, then leaned against the opposite side, arms crossed over his bare chest, watching me take the first sip like it mattered more than anything waiting for him in the office.
I wrapped both hands around the warm ceramic and let the heat seep into my palms. The morning light was softer now, spilling across the small kitchen like it had decided to be kind for once. No rush. No hiding. Just the two of us in my apartment, the city humming far be
