It’s a cold, blustery night in Strand City. Inside a privately-owned café in uptown Hat-Tin—one of the boroughs that make up the sprawling metropolis—Brian picks up his freshly brewed coffee from a teenage barista. The café hums with quiet activity; nearly half the tables are occupied by couples sharing laughs, friends catching up, and solitary writers lost in their work.

Nights like this always pull Brian into his thoughts, memories of the past few years creeping in like the cold outside. He finds himself reflecting on the holidays, back when he spent them with his wife and daughter—before they moved away, leaving both him and Strand City behind. These bittersweet recollections sit in the back of his mind, uninvited yet ever-present.

Carrying his coffee, Brian takes a seat at a window table, setting his steaming cup down carefully. He shrugs off his thick, brown overcoat and drapes it over the back of his chair but leaves his bright pink scarf snugly wrapped around his neck. It pairs well with his black sweater, while also helping to keep the chill at bay. Settling into his seat, he takes his first sip of the drink, letting the warmth spread through him.

“Ahh, delicious,” he murmurs to himself.

Just as he begins to relax, his phone buzzes against the table, its sharp ring breaking the quiet hum of the café. He glances at the caller ID, his heart lifting slightly. He already knows who he hopes it is—the only person whose call brings him joy.

The screen reads Babygirl. A faint smile touches Brian’s lips as he answers.

“Hello?” he says, his voice softening.

“Hey dad.”

“Hey, sweetie. I’m so glad to hear your voice. What’s up?”

“Nothing much,” his daughter replies. “I was scrolling on my phone and saw the weather in Strand City tonight. I thought I’d check to see if you were at our favorite café.”

Brian chuckles. “I’m here right now, actually.”

“Oh, really? Talk about timing,” she says with a giggle.

“Right? I guess I’m just that predictable,” Brian jokes, his smile growing. “So, how’s school been?”

As he adjusts the phone against his ear, Brian glances out the window. The sight of bundled-up pedestrians trudging against the biting wind catches his attention. He watches as they huddle into their jackets, bracing themselves against the chill. He takes another sip of coffee, savoring its warmth.

“School is school, I suppose,” his daughter says, her voice carrying a familiar, playful tone.

“That’s such a kid answer,” Brian teases.

“Well, asking about school is such an adult question,” she fires back, her wit matching his.

“You’re not wrong,” Brian replies with a chuckle. “I can’t help it, though. You’ll see one day when you have a family of your own.”

“That’s going to be way down the road because I don’t want kids anytime soon,” his daughter says firmly.

“Good,” Brian quips, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. “How’s your boyfriend been?”

Brian didn’t actually care for his daughter’s boyfriend. He never had. But the guy was part of her life, so Brian accepted it—a reluctant reality for a parent trying to stay connected from a distance.

“We broke up,” she reveals, her tone casual.

Brian freezes for a moment before a rush of satisfaction courses through him. He instantly clenches his fist in silent triumph but quickly composes himself, masking his excitement with a carefully measured tone.

“Oh no, sweetie. I’m sorry to hear that,” he lies, his voice feigning concern.

“Drop the act, Dad. I know you and Mom didn’t like him,” his daughter says with a knowing laugh.

“Your mom didn’t like him either?” Brian asks, genuinely surprised.

“Nope. She kept saying he wouldn’t amount to anything,” she admits, her voice tinged with humor.

“That definitely sounds like your mom,” Brian replies with a chuckle. “What else is going on with you?”

“Umm, oh! That college prep program finally called me back. They said there are a few seats open for the summer camp, and I was accepted!”

Brian’s face lights up, his excitement spilling into his voice.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“That’s incredible, baby! Congratulations!” he exclaims, drawing a few glances from the nearby tables. He doesn’t notice, or care. For him, this is a moment of pure joy.

“Thanks, Dad,” she says with a shy laugh. “Mom said it’s pretty expensive, so I’m planning to get a part-time job to help out.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll send you some money to help out,” Brian assures her. “Just text me how much the program costs.”

“Thanks, Dad,” she says softly, her tone dropping to something more subdued.

Brian’s smile fades as concern creeps into his expression.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice quieter now.

There’s a pause before she responds. “How have you been feeling, Dad? Are you okay?”

Brian knows what she’s really asking, and the unspoken weight of her question stings. He knows she’s too hesitant, maybe even ashamed, to say the words outright. And deep down, he knows that’s on him. He exhales slowly, softening his tone.

“Yeah, baby. I’m feeling fine. Actually… I’m one year clean today,” Brian reveals, his voice steady but tinged with emotion.

“That’s great!” she says, her excitement genuine now. “I knew the anniversary was coming up, so I wanted to check in.”

“Oh, hang on. Mom wants to talk to you,” his daughter says abruptly, cutting herself off as she passes the phone to her mother.

Brian’s heart tightens, teetering on the edge as he hears the faint shuffle of the phone changing hands. His ex-wife’s familiar voice follows, sending an involuntary chill through him.

“Hello?” Christie says, her tone neutral but distinct.

“Hey, Christie. Sounds like you’re doing a great job with our daughter,” Brian attempts, his voice wavering slightly as he ventures into small talk.

“Yeah, well, someone has to,” Christie replies abruptly.

Brian falls silent. Her words always hit harder than he anticipates, cutting through him like a blade. No matter how prepared he thought he was, the sting never lessened.

“She’s a good kid, though,” Christie continues after a pause. “She actually reminds me of you more and more every day.”

“I don’t know whether to be flattered or terrified,” Brian says, attempting a joke.

To his surprise, he hears her laugh—a sound he hadn’t realized he missed so deeply.

“It could be a little bit of both,” she says, her tone softening. “She’s really excited about this college program. I think it’ll be good for her.”

“I think so too,” Brian agrees.

There’s a moment of quiet between them, one that feels heavier than it should.

“…You’re doing okay, though?” Christie asks, her voice gentler now.

“Yeah,” Brian says, taking a breath. “I was just telling her—today makes a whole year sober for me.”

“That’s incredible!” Christie exclaims, genuine pride clear in her voice. “I’m so proud of you.”

Brian’s throat tightens. “Thank you. You can’t imagine how good it feels to hear you say that,” he admits, his voice low but steady.

“So, when are you planning to visit again?” she asks, shifting the conversation.

“The end of summer. I already put in for the time off,” Brian replies.

“Do you think they’ll approve it?”

“They have to,” Brian says with a small chuckle. “I’ve got so much time saved up. Even if they didn’t, I’d just use my sick days.”

“Still playing that game?” Christie asks, her tone turning light.

“Yeah, I still play when I’m not working,” Brian answers with a faint laugh.

“You always were a big kid at heart,” she says with a teasing edge. “Are those kids still calling you that nickname? What was it again—King Truth?”

There’s a slight flirtation in her voice that catches Brian off guard.

“True King,” he corrects.

“That’s wild. So, are you ruling over these kids?” she teases.

“You and I both know I couldn’t rule over anyone,” Brian jokes, his smile creeping back.

Christie laughs softly. “Haha… yeah. Well, it was good to hear from you. Take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will. I promise,” Brian says earnestly.

“Good. I’m passing the phone back to your daughter.”

Brian takes another sip of his coffee. The café is beginning to gain a crowd as almost all of the tables are occupied at this point.

Brian takes another sip of his coffee, savoring the warmth as it spreads through him. Around him, the café begins to fill up, the quiet hum of conversation growing into a lively buzz. Almost every table is now occupied—couples chatting softly, friends laughing, and solitary patrons absorbed in their work or screens.

“Hey, Dad?” his daughter’s voice comes through the phone again, pulling him from the moment.

“Yes, sweetie?”

“You’re not still smoking, are you?” she asks, her tone light but tinged with concern.

Brian exhales, lowering his coffee cup. “I am, baby,” he admits. “But I’ve cut down a lot—no more two packs a day.”

There’s a pause before she responds. “Good. Progress.”

“Progress,” Brian repeats, a small smile forming as he leans back in his chair.

“Stay warm, okay?” she orders, the affection in her voice clear.

“I’ve got your scarf around my neck as we speak,” Brian reveals, tugging gently at the soft pink fabric wrapped snugly around him.

“The pink one?”

“Yep.”

“You probably look funny,” she teases, her laugh carrying through the receiver. “An old man with a pink scarf.”

Brian chuckles. “I probably do.”

There’s a moment of warmth between them before she speaks again, her voice softer now.

“I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, sweetie,” Brian replies, his tone sincere and steady.

“Bye”

As the call ends, Brian sets his phone in his pocket and grabs his coat. Picking up his coffee, he steps out of the café and into the brisk night air. The cold wind nips at his face, but he simply pulls his jacket tighter and takes a long sip from his cup.

Standing on the curb, he pauses, watching the city in motion. The glowing lights of Strand City cast a warm hue against the chilly darkness, cars rushing by and pedestrians bundled in their coats. In this moment, amidst the chaos of the city, Brian feels a quiet contentment.

The pink scarf sways gently in the breeze as he stands there, his breath visible in the cold air. For the first time in a long while, he feels okay.