Moonlit Bond

r scent of paper and ink filled the air, mingling with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee from the small café corner she'd added last year. Out

if slightly stifling, blanket. Another day, another opening of the shop, another chance to lose herself in the worlds o

. Mrs Hawkins, one of her regular customers, shuffled in, her

ry section. "I've finished that Agatha Christie you recommended. S

he counter. "Of course, Mrs. Hawkins. I think you might

sense of purpose wash over her. This was where she belonged, surrounded by stories and sharing her passion with others.

y the window where a young couple sat, heads bent close together as they shared a muffin and

rt of a town where everyone knew her name. But watching that couple, seeing the way their eyes lit up w

ng about tax codes and the intricacies of financial planning, barely pausing for breath, let alone asking Emma a single question about herself. Sh

vorite authors and debating the merits of various literary movements. But as the weeks wore on, she realized that while Michael was passionate about books, he seemed incapable of t

ort of familiarity. But it quickly became apparent that they had grown into very different people. David craved excitement and adventure, always looking for the next thrill, while Emma

the soothing routine of restocking shelves. As lunchtime approached, Emma's best

cing with excitement. "Remember that guy I told you about, the one I met at

but unable to quash the twinge of envy that twisted in her

a found her attention drifting. She loved Lily dearly, but sometimes her friend's endl

k," Lily was saying. "Oh, Emma, you should come with us! I'm sure he has a

The last blind date you set me up on ended with me hiding in the restaurant bath

arren wasn't the best match. But you can't give

for now, I'm happy with my books and my shop. Spea

ore owner found herself once again alone with her thoughts. She moved through the sho

yes of countless characters. And yet, as the afternoon sun slanted through the windows, casting long shadows

ever-after. Was it foolish to want that for herself? To hope that somewhere o

ont window. The street outside was quiet now, the last remnants of daylight fading into a soft twilight. In t

ther opening of the shop, another chance to lose herself in the world of fiction. B

o the cool evening air, leaving behind the comforting familiarity of h