Cafe of Second Chances Love Story
“Chapter Two — because breakups deserve coffee too.” ☕💔
Scene: Early morning, rainy weather, dramatic café vibes
Ishaan wiped down the menu black chalk board outside his small, quirky café:
“CHAPTER TWO: Write a letter to your ex but you’ll never send it. First heartbreak = first free espresso.”
He stepped back on a black board and admired his work.
Ishaan (to himself): “Nothing says healing like caffeine and emotional trauma.”
Inside, the café smelled like fresh croissants, old books, and unresolved feelings.
The walls were filled with colorful envelopes—letters people wrote to their exes.
No names. No return addresses. Just vibe and vent.
He sat at the counter, sipping his over-brewed espresso like it was personality juice.
And then, fate punched him in the gut.
The bell over the door jingled.
She walked in.
Meher.
Still had that annoyingly perfect smirk. Still wore that same lemon-yellow hoodie.
The one she once claimed was “better than your hugs.”
(Which hurt more than it should’ve.)
Meher (holding a letter): “So… this your idea of therapy? Charging people for emotional damage?”
Ishaan (choking on his coffee): “Holy crap—Meher?!” what are you doing here
Meher: “Surprise, loser. Found this tucked in the poetry section.” (waves his old letter at him)
To Meher.
I miss you like coffee misses cream. Bitter, pointless, and a little burnt without you.
Ishaan (groaning): “I was drunk on filter coffee and regret when I wrote that.”
Meher (grinning): “Honestly? Kinda sweet. Cringe. But sweet.”
She plopped down on the stool opposite him like she owned the place.
And maybe… she kinda still owned him too.
Ishaan: “What are you even doing here?”
Meher (casually): “Oh, you know. Dropping by the place I’ve been secretly visiting for four months.”
Ishaan (blinking): “Excuse me?!” you four mouth impossible
Meher: “Yeah. Sat by the window. Ordered your overpriced vanilla almond latte. Wrote dumb letters. Waited.”
Ishaan (dramatic gasp): “Waited? For me? God, do I feel important or what?”
Meher: “Don’t flatter yourself. Mostly came for the muffins. But also… yeah, I was waiting.”
They paused.
Ishaan (softly): “Why didn’t you just say something?”
Meher: “You looked happy. I didn’t wanna be the ex who ruins that.”
Ishaan (deadpan): “Girl, I was listening to a sad song on loop and burning toast like a heartbroken maniac. That ain’t happiness.”
Meher (laughs): “You always sucked at cooking.”
😢 Heart Moment
She reached into her bag and pulled out a worn-out envelope.
Meher: “I wrote this for you. Never had the guts to give it.”
She handed it over.
He opened it. Read silently.
“You were my peace in a world I couldn’t slow down.
I let go, thinking I needed to find myself.
Turns out, you were the calm I was searching for.”
Ishaan looked up, eyes wet but smile still teasing.
Ishaan: “Great. Now I’m crying like a drama lead. Are you happy?”
Meher: “Kinda. But also… I missed your stupid face.”
Ishaan (smirking): “This stupid face built a café for broken hearts. Respect it.”
Meher (giggling): “Respect granted, Chef Sadness.”
🌃 Later That Night
They sat on the rooftop of the café, sipping hot chocolate. Rain had stopped, but the air still smelled like new beginnings.
Meher: “What happens now, Mr. Heartbreak Barista?”
Ishaan (playful): “Well, you could stick around. Help with muffins. Steal my hoodies again.”
Meher: “Tempting. Especially the hoodie part.”
Ishaan (gently): “Let’s start again. No letters. No misunderstandings. Just you, me, and slightly burnt croissants.”
Meher (resting her head on his shoulder): “Sounds like a messy, perfect plan.”
📸 Final Frame
Camera pans out.
The chalkboard now reads:“Chapter Two:
Some love stories just needed better timing… and coffee.” ❤️