Chapter 3: A Coffee Mishap
Day 3, Late Afternoon
Elias Whitmore sat at a table by the window in Tide's Brew, the café's noise a soft hum around him. Outside, Crescent Bay's boardwalk was alive—kids ran with kites, couples walked hand in hand, and waves crashed steadily. His empty coffee cup sat in front of him, ice melted into a puddle. His phone was quiet now, but his brother Nathan's voice still rang in his ears from their earlier call.
Nathan had been annoyed, talking about the family's tech company and Elias's habit of avoiding it. You're part of this, Eli. Step up. The words stuck, stirring thoughts Elias couldn't quite sort out. Was it about duty? Something more? He didn't know, and it left him restless.
He ran a hand through his dark hair, his hazel eyes fixed on the ocean. He needed to move—maybe grab another coffee to clear his head. He stood, left a tip, his open shirt loose over his tanned chest, and walked to the counter.
---
Across the café, Lila Carver smiled as her friend Mara talked. Their empty glasses clinked on the table—Mara's lemonade, Lila's chai.
"You'd laugh at this show I watched," Mara said. "Total drama."
Lila chuckled, her fingers resting on the cool glass. "Sounds like trouble I don't need."
The afternoon felt good, a break from her earlier thoughts, when Mara had gone on about a good-looking guy in the café. That had hit a sore spot, and Lila had pushed it away.
Three years ago, a car accident changed everything. At twenty-four, Lila lost her sight and her ability to walk. Before, she'd been a painter, full of life, her smile drawing people in. Now, at twenty-seven, she had built a new world with her podcast, telling stories of myths and heroes. She was proud of it—but some things still hurt. Like love.
Back then, guys noticed her. Now, in her wheelchair, blind, she felt invisible. No one would want her—not really. Especially not a guy like Mara described, all charm and looks. Lila had tried dating once after the accident, but the guy's pity stung more than his words. She'd decided: love had to be real, or she'd rather be alone.
"Time to go?" Mara asked, grabbing her bag.
Lila nodded. "Yeah, I've got work to do."
Mara pushed Lila's wheelchair toward the door, the café's chatter fading behind them.
---
Elias reached the counter and ordered another iced coffee. His mind was still on Nathan's call, like a knot he couldn't untie. He paid, took the cup, and turned to leave, his eyes on the boardwalk outside—gulls soaring, waves sparkling.
He didn't see the door swinging open.
Lila and Mara were almost out when it happened. Elias, lost in thought, bumped right into Lila's wheelchair. His coffee slipped, the lid flying off, and cold liquid splashed over Lila's t-shirt and lap, soaking Elias's shirt too.
Mara gasped, and Lila tensed, her hands jumping to her chest as the wet chill hit her.
"Oh no," Elias said, snapping back to reality. He'd messed up—he hadn't been looking. He crouched down, putting the cup on the floor, and checked to see if she was okay.
"I'm so sorry, I—"
He stopped. Her face caught him off guard. She was beautiful—soft freckles, warm brown hair falling past her shoulders. Her eyes were closed, and he realized she couldn't see. Then he saw the wheelchair, its wheels still from the bump.
Coffee dripped from her shirt, staining the light gray fabric, but she didn't seem hurt—just surprised.
Lila's hands moved fast, feeling the wet spots on her shirt and lap. It was cold and sticky, but nothing serious—just a dirty t-shirt. Her pulse raced from the sudden crash, not the spill. A man's voice was close, sounding worried. She grabbed a napkin from her bag, wiping her hands to stay calm.
"It's alright," she said, her voice steady but firm.
Elias stood, feeling awful. He looked at her soaked shirt, then his own—both a mess.
"No, it's my fault. I wasn't watching where I was going." He wanted to fix it. "There's a clothing store nearby. If it's okay with you, I can buy you a new shirt. It's the least I can do."
Lila paused, holding the napkin. His voice was kind—not fake or uncomfortable like some people's when they noticed her chair. Still, she didn't want his help. She'd heard offers before—people trying to be nice, or maybe feeling sorry for her. She didn't need that.
"No, thanks," she said, polite but clear. "It's just a shirt. It'll wash."
Mara, behind her, grinned and jumped in.
"No worries, handsome. We're good."
She gave Elias a quick look—tall, fit, his open shirt showing a strong chest, still wet from the spill. She nudged Lila's chair forward, ready to leave.
Lila's mouth twitched, half-smiling at Mara's teasing. Handsome. She wasn't surprised. She could feel people in the café watching—probably staring at the whole scene. It made her uneasy. Not the spill, but the attention.
A guy like him—good-looking, confident—wouldn't care about her beyond this mistake. She wasn't the girl she used to be, the one who'd laugh and flirt without a second thought. Now, she was… different. Blind. In a chair. No one saw past that, and she didn't expect them to.
She wiped her shirt again, ready to move on.
Elias looked at her, wanting to say more. Her face stayed in his mind—not just how pretty she was, but how calm she seemed, like the spill was nothing. He felt bad, but her friend's joking tone and the way she'd said no stopped him.
"I'm really sorry," he said again, quieter, stepping aside.
"It's fine," Lila said, her voice closing the conversation.
Mara pushed her out the door, and they rolled onto the boardwalk, the ocean's sound washing over them.
---
Elias stood there, coffee dripping on the floor, his empty cup like a reminder of his mistake. He wanted to help her, maybe talk more, but she didn't want that. He couldn't push—why would he? She was clear, and he respected it.
Still, something about her stuck with him—her voice, her strength.
He shook his head, glancing at his wet shirt. The stain didn't matter, but the moment did.
Nathan's call came back to him, mixing with the crash. His thoughts were a mess now, heavier than before. He stepped outside, the boardwalk glowing with sunset colors. He didn't want another coffee anymore. Instead, he walked to the beach, needing the waves to settle him.
The sand was cool, the crowd gone. Elias sat by the water, his shirt still damp. He'd always wanted one love—someone who'd know him, not his looks or money. Today, women had noticed him at the beach, but he'd ignored them.
This woman, though—she hadn't even seen him. But she felt different. He didn't know why.
---
Lila and Mara moved along the boardwalk, Mara talking to keep things light.
"That guy was so embarrassed, Lila. Kept saying sorry like it was his job."
Lila smiled a little, letting it pass. Mara was sweet, but she didn't understand. No one did. The accident had taken more than her eyes and legs—it took the part of her that felt wanted.
"He didn't mean it," Lila said, keeping her voice easy. "Hope he's not too upset."
Mara laughed. "He's fine. Probably off being charming somewhere else." She softened. "You good, though? That was a wet surprise."
"I'm okay," Lila said—and she was.
The shirt would dry. The guy was gone. She listened to the boardwalk—bikes whirring, a vendor shouting, waves rolling. Her world was back in place.
At home, she'd change, work on her podcast, dive into stories of brave gods and lost dreams. That was enough. Men like the one from the café weren't part of her life.
---
Elias stayed by the ocean until stars appeared, small and bright. He stood, brushing off sand, and walked to his car. Orion would be waiting at home, ready for a walk. Nathan's words, the woman's face, the spilled coffee—they swirled in his head, unclear but heavy.
Lila got home and pulled off her wet shirt, her fingers finding a clean one by its braille tag. Mara's voice faded, replaced by her podcast's music. She worked late, telling tales of hope and ruin, not knowing a stranger's path had crossed hers.
Crescent Bay hummed, its waves gentle, pulling two lives closer—without a sound.