My Irreplaceable Mate

It was yet another rainy day in Thornmere Town. A town so soaked in misery and drizzle that its very name felt like a cruel joke. Who in their right mind thought it was a good idea to name a place with over 170 rainy days a year Thornmere? I had been stuck in this dreary pit for seven months, counting down the days until I could leave. My escape hinged on the end of the month and the paycheck I was waiting for from Ophelia Frost Café.

It was October 29th—a date etched into my memory for the rest of my life. It was the day I met him.

The café was as lifeless as the rain-soaked streets outside. Naia and I were drowning in boredom, passing time by cleaning, then re-cleaning, everything in sight.

“Think Frost will let us go home early today?” Naia asked, fiddling with the edge of her cleaning cloth. “Nobody in their right mind would come out in this weather.”

I chuckled, shaking my head at her naïve optimism. “Not a chance. Even if this place stayed empty for weeks, she’d find something for us to scrub. Maybe hand us paint and tell us to redecorate the walls.”

Naia clicked her tongue in annoyance. “You’re impossible, Thalassa. No fun at all.”

Before she could hurl her cloth at me, the bell above the door jingled, saving me from her wrath. Both of us held our breath, praying for a customer who might make our day less miserable—and maybe even leave a tip. But instead of salvation, we were greeted by the soggy sight of our favorite six-year-old twins, Jorvik and Elowen, dripping puddles onto the floor in their bright yellow raincoats.

“Jorvik? Elowen? Why aren’t you at school?” I asked, half-amused, half-concerned.

“The school flooded!” Elowen grinned, her teeth flashing mischievously. “We want Thalassa’s chocolate muffins!”

I sighed, shaking my head, but couldn’t help smiling at their enthusiasm. These two were the only rays of light in this dreary town. If there was anything I’d miss after leaving, it would be their ever-grinning faces.

“You’re in luck,” I said, pulling two freshly baked muffins from the tray. “These are white chocolate and raspberry.”

They devoured the muffins like little tornadoes, finishing in record time.

“Super yummy!” Jorvik declared, licking chocolate off his fingers.

“Glad you liked them,” I said with a warm smile. “Now hurry home—it looks like the rain’s only getting worse.”

“We will, Thalassa!” they chimed in unison as they left.

Naia waved them off, and I grabbed the mop to clean the trail of water they’d left behind.

“You know,” Naia said, leaning lazily against the counter, “Frost should pay you more. If it weren’t for your muffins, nobody would bother coming here to drink that excuse for coffee.”

“She should,” I agreed with a smirk.

“Seriously, though. That coffee machine breaks every other day. Without your baking, this place would’ve gone under ages ago,” she said, crossing her arms.

“But it doesn’t matter anymore,” I replied, ruffling her curls playfully. “In two days, I’ll be gone. I’ll take my paycheck and leave this soggy town behind.”

“Why? I mean, I get it—this town’s a dump—but it’s a little less dumpy with you here,” Naia sulked.

“I can’t stay in one place for too long,” I admitted with a sigh.

“Ah, so you’re one of those types. Either searching for your place in the world or running from something,” she teased.

Her words struck closer to home than I cared to admit, but I managed a nervous laugh. “Maybe a little of both.”

“Good for you,” she said, combing her hair back into place. “It’d be a waste for someone like you to rot here. I’ll miss you, though.”

“I’ll miss you too,” I said, retreating to the back with the mop.

Before I could disappear completely, the bell above the door jingled again. Sylas and Rowan, two factory guards, trudged in, shaking off the rain like a pair of drenched dogs.

“For heaven’s sake, Sylas!” I snapped. “I just mopped the floor!”

“Sorry, sorry!” he apologized sheepishly.

While Naia poured them coffee from the backup pot—since the machine had decided to die yet again—I noticed the bell above the door hanging lopsided. On my tiptoes, I reached up to straighten it.

That’s when the door swung open, catching me off guard and knocking me off balance.

“Oh no, I’m going to fall!” The thought flashed through my mind as I braced for impact. But instead of hitting the floor, I landed in a pair of strong arms.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself staring into the most striking face I’d ever seen. His silver hair seemed to shimmer even in the dull café light, and his piercing gray eyes seemed to glow. Thick black lashes framed his otherworldly gaze, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

“Are you… my angel?” The words slipped out before I could stop them.

His lips curled into a faint smile as he set me upright. Only then did I realize how tall he was, how perfectly his black suit fit beneath a long, elegant coat. He looked nothing like the locals, and his presence felt almost unreal.

“Uh… thank you,” I stammered, flustered beyond belief.

“You’re welcome,” he said in a voice so smooth and deep it sent shivers down my spine.

As he passed me by to sit at a table, I turned to grab a menu from the counter, catching Naia’s slack-jawed expression.

“He’s so hot,” she whispered, barely keeping her voice down.

“Pull yourself together,” I hissed, trying to compose myself.

“I can’t,” she said, staring at him with unfiltered longing. “I’d have his babies right here, right now.”

“Naia!” I scolded, but my own heart was pounding as I approached his table.

“What’s with the gloves?” he asked suddenly, his gaze fixed on my hands.

“Oh, these?” I laughed nervously, hiding my gloved hands behind my back. “Just… a habit.”

“A habit,” he repeated, smirking as though he didn’t believe me.

“What can I get for you?” I asked, desperate to change the subject.

“Coffee, perhaps?” he said with a trace of amusement.

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” I admitted, my cheeks heating. “Our coffee machine is broken, and the backup is… well…”

“I’m sure I’ll like the coffee you make,” he said, his voice low and deliberate.

His words sent a jolt through me, and I struggled to keep my composure. “W-why do you think that?”

He leaned back slightly, his gray eyes holding mine. “Because,” he said with a faint chuckle, “you smell like sunshine.”