The next day, Maria got up from the bed to get ready for her new job.
Maria thought that it is not easy to start a new but she is prepared to face anything and not let ruin it for her.
That belief was the only thing she held onto as she pushed open the wooden door of Le Cœur de la Vie .
The bistro was medium size than she had imagined, but somehow, that made it feel warmer.
The ray of the sun hung low from the ceiling, casting a soft glow over neatly arranged tables dressed in cream-colored cloth.
The scent of freshly baked bread and simmering herbs wrapped around her like a welcome embrace.
Time seems to stop as she stood still wondering what she will do.
“Ah, you must be Maria!”
The voice pulled her back.
A woman in her late fifties approached her, her presence calm yet commanding.
She had silver-streaked hair tied neatly behind her head, and her eyes carried the kind of warmth that made you feel safe instantly.
“Madame Dupont,” Maria said quickly, straightening up.
“Oui,” the woman smiled.
“Bienvenue, my dear.”
Maria felt some of her nervousness melt away.
Madame Dupont handed her an apron.
“Come.
There is much to learn—but do not worry.
Here, we do things with heart.”
Maria nodded eagerly.
That was exactly what she needed.
Madam Doupont treated the same way her grandma treat.
She did not shout at her like her parents whenever she makes mistake instead she speaks gently and encouraged her.
The first few days passed in a blur.
Maria threw herself into the work completely—memorizing orders, learning the menu, studying how everything flowed.
She wasn’t just working; she was absorbing everything.
And slowly, the place began to feel like home.
There was Park, the head chef, who is charismatic, loud, and always moving.
He had a habit of winking after every joke and made everyone happy.
“Cooking is not just food,” he told her once, pointing a spoon at her like a teacher.
“It is emotion.
If you are sad, your food will tell on you.”
Maria had laughed at that.
Then there was Cora, graceful and sharp-eyed, who seemed to know everything about everyone.
“Customers come for food,” she said one evening while polishing glasses, “but they stay for stories.”
Maria wasn’t sure if that was true—but Cora said it like it was a fact.
And then there was Jack.
Quiet, steady Jack, who worked behind the bar like it was his sanctuary.
He didn’t speak much, but when he did, it was always something kind.
“You’ll be fine here,” he told Maria on her second day, sliding her a glass of water when she looked overwhelmed.
She believed him.
Days passed, Maria learned how to balance trays, how to remember regular orders, how to smile even when she was tired.
She learned how to move quickly without rushing, how to listen without intruding.
And somehow, without realizing it, she began to shine.
Madame Dupont noticed.
“You have something special,” she told Maria one afternoon.
“Not everyone can make people feel seen.
You do that.”
Maria didn’t know what to say to that.
But it stayed with her.
One quiet evening , the sky outside had just begun to darken, inside the bistro, candles flickered gently on each table, and customers were not much.
Maria was adjusting the placement of cutlery when the door chimed again.
It was gentle like someone doesn’t want to disturb the peace in the bistro.
She looked up and a calm, Tall and confident guy.
He stepped inside like he belonged somewhere else entirely.
His eyes scanned the room and then landed on her.
Maria felt it immediately that strange, unexpected flutter.
She quickly looked away, her heart beating faster than it should.
“Get it together, Maria”.
She picked up her notepad and approached him, hoping her nerves wouldn’t betray her.
“Bonsoir, mademoiselle,” he said as he took a seat at the bar, his voice smooth and calm.
Maria swallowed.
“Uh—bonjour, monsieur,” she replied, her voice slightly higher than usual.
“Welcome to Le Cœur de la Vie.
What can I get for you?”
Why do I sound like that?
His lips curved slightly, as if amused—but not unkindly.
“I’ll have a black coffee,” he said, “and a croissant.”
Simple,Direct.
Maria nodded quickly and scribbled it down, though her handwriting came out messier than usual.
As she turned to leave
“You have an interesting watch.”
She froze.
Slowly, she looked back.
He was watching her wrist, her pink calculator watch.
Heat rushed to her face.
“Oh—this?” she said, pushing her glasses up nervously.
“It’s just… um… a Casio Data Bank gifted by my grandma.” She paused.
Why did I say it like that?
The nervousness melted into excitement.
“It’s actually really useful,” she continued, her words coming faster now.
“It has a calculator, calendar, alarm—you can even store small data entries.
I’m a math major, so I like things that are both functional and… kind of fun.”
She stopped.
Had she said too much?
She looked at him carefully.
He wasn’t laughing but really listening.
“That’s impressive,” he said and he meant it.
Maria blinked.
“Really?”
He nodded.
“Most people wouldn’t even notice something like that or understand it.”
Something warm settled in her chest.
“Yeah, well…” she smiled shyly.
“Most people don’t ask.”
He leaned back slightly, studying her—not in a way that made her uncomfortable, but in a way that felt… curious.
“I’m glad I did.”
Their conversation didn’t stop there.
When Maria returned with his order, he asked her about her studies.
She told him about math, about patterns, about how she saw beauty in numbers.
He listened.
And then he shared a little about himself—but not too much.
Time passed without Maria noticing.
The café buzzed around them, but somehow, their little corner felt separate from everything else.
Even Cora noticed from across the room, she raised an eyebrow and smirked.
Maria pretended not to see.
By the time the evening slowed down, Maria felt something she hadn’t felt in a long time.
As if something inside her had quietly awakened.
When he finally stood to leave, she felt a small, unexpected disappointment.
“Thank you,” he said, placing money on the counter.
“For the coffee?” she asked.
He shook his head slightly.
“For the conversation.”
Her heart skipped.
Then he turned—and walked out.
Just like that.
Later, as Maria clocked out, she found Cora waiting for her by the door.
“Well,” Cora said, arms crossed, a knowing smile on her face.
“That was interesting.”
Maria sighed.
“Don’t start.”
“Oh, I will absolutely start,” Cora replied.
“You had a suitor tonight.”
Maria groaned softly.
“He was just a customer.”
Cora leaned closer.
“No.
He was interested.”
Maria hesitated.
Her mind replayed the conversation.
The way he listened.
The way he looked at her—not through her.
“You think so?” she asked quietly.
Cora smirked.
“I know so just be careful around him.
Okay?”
” Okay.
Thanks “.
That night, as Maria walked home, the city lights shimmered around her but her thoughts were elsewhere.
On a stranger, on a conversation and a feeling she couldn’t quite explain.
Who was he?
And why did it feel like their story wasn’t over?
Maria smiled softly to herself for the first time in a long time, she wasn’t just starting over.
She was stepping into something unknown and maybe…
Her phone rang waking her up from her thought, she was thinking maybe her family was finally missing her only for the bit of hope to die.
It was her grandma.
” Maria, how are you doing?
Dear” her grandma soft words pushed away the bitterness in her chest at least someone care.
“Grandma, the co-workers are friendly and Mrs Doupont treated me nicely just like you” Maria went on and on telling her grandma how the day was.