Sitting at the kitchen counter, I absentmindedly tapped the spoon against the ceramic mug, sending a symphony of clinking sounds reverberating through the room. Lost in my own thoughts, I found myself pondering a subject that had long lost its true meaning to me years ago. It was as if I had broken free from the oaths, promises, and limits I had once imposed upon myself, treading a path that I once despised in the earlier period of my life.
As the beans of coffee surrendered to the relentless force of the spoon, my mind kept drifting back to a moment neither of us wanted, but one that we both inexplicably found ourselves drawn to. The words he uttered still echoed in my ears, leaving me speechless and wide-eyed. "I'm sorry," his voice had whispered, filled with an unexpected remorse. Why was he apologizing? Was it for the audacity of kissing me?
