Sonia M. Rompoti, MSc, Bsc

The hospital canteen was empty at 3 a.m. except for the two of them.

She was a junior doctor finishing a sixteen-hour shift. He was an orderly who made the best terrible coffee in the building and took no credit for it.

“You look done,” he said.

“I am extremely done.” She sat down with the coffee he’d slid toward her without being asked. “Thank you.”

“Rough one?”

“They’re all rough ones.” She looked at him. “You always say the right amount.”

“The right amount?”

“You don’t say it’ll be fine. You don’t ask for details. You just—” She gestured at the coffee. “The right amount.”

His name was Ade. He worked nights to study during the day — architecture, second year, borrowed library books stacked in his locker. She’d seen them once and asked, and they’d talked for twenty minutes about structures and bodies and the different ways things held together under pressure.

That had been three weeks ago. Since then she’d found reasons to be in the canteen at 3 a.m. on her night shifts. She suspected he had too, on his off-nights, but she didn’t say so.

“I applied for days,” he said, one morning. “Got it. Start next month.”

She felt the news land somewhere inconvenient.

“Oh,” she said.

He looked at her steadily. “I was thinking, if I’m on days — we’d have evenings free at the same time.”

She wrapped both hands around the coffee cup. “Is that why you applied for days?”

“Mostly,” he said. “The sleep schedule didn’t hurt.”

She smiled. He smiled back. Outside, the city was beginning to lighten.

“Evenings would be good,” she said.

So you made it to the end… which probably means you’re the kind of person who enjoys a little romance with their coffee ☕. If you’re in the mood for more stories about messy feelings, stubborn attraction, and women who absolutely refuse to settle for boring love, you can find all my books here.

Fair warning though. One story tends to lead to another. I’ve seen it happen. Repeatedly.