The morning light slipped quietly through the thin curtains, brushing against Nyra Ashen’s face like a rare kindness.
For once… she woke up without dread sitting heavy on her chest.
A small smile touched her lips.
Today was different.
Today, she was going to the café.
It wasn’t much. Just a job. Just a place where she would serve strangers coffee and silence.
But to Nyra, it felt like a door—slightly open in a life that had always been locked.
She sat up slowly, clutching that fragile happiness like it might disappear if she moved too fast.
And then—
“Nyra! Are you dead in there or just pretending again?”
The sharp voice cut through the air like broken glass.
The smile vanished.
Reality had arrived.
—
Nyra stepped into the living room, her posture straight but her eyes lowered. Her uncle, Daniel, sat on the worn sofa, flipping through a newspaper like the world depended on it.
Aunty Sera stood near the kitchen entrance, arms crossed, eyes already filled with irritation.
Emma, her cousin, lounged on the chair, scrolling through her phone, a smirk already playing on her lips.
“Well,” Emma said without even looking up, “look who finally decided to wake up. The housemaid.”
Nyra said nothing.
She had learned long ago—silence was safer.
Sera’s voice followed, cold and precise. “Food doesn’t cook itself, you know. Or do you expect us to starve while you dream your useless dreams?”
“I’ll make breakfast,” Nyra replied softly.
“Of course you will,” Emma added, finally glancing at her. “That’s the only thing you’re good for.”
Nyra moved toward the kitchen, but Daniel’s voice stopped her.
“Wait.”
She froze.
He folded his newspaper slowly, looking at her over the rim of his glasses. “How long do you plan to stay like this, Nyra?”
She blinked. “Like… what?”
“Useless,” Sera answered for him, her tone dripping with contempt. “Living under our roof, eating our food, doing nothing.”
Nyra clenched her fingers together.
“I…” she hesitated, then forced the words out, “I got a job.”
The room went silent for a moment.
Emma let out a short laugh. “You? A job? Where? Cleaning toilets?”
“At a café,” Nyra said, her voice steady despite the tightness in her chest. “I start today.”
Daniel leaned back, studying her. “A café, huh.”
Sera scoffed. “And how much are they paying you? Enough to stop being a burden?”
Nyra didn’t answer.
Because no amount would ever be enough for them.
Emma tilted her head, her smile sharp. “Well, since you’re finally earning something, I hope you understand your responsibilities.”
Nyra looked up, confused. “Responsibilities?”
Daniel’s voice turned firm. “Half your salary.”
Her breath caught. “What?”
“You heard him,” Sera said. “You live here. You eat here. You use our electricity, our water. Nothing is free.”
“But I already do all the housework—”
“And?” Emma cut in. “Do you think that’s charity? That’s the least you can do.”
Nyra’s heart pounded.
Half her salary… gone before she even earned it.
“I… I need that money,” she whispered.
Daniel’s expression hardened. “And we need compensation. Or do you think you deserve to live here for nothing?”
The silence that followed wasn’t empty.
It was suffocating.
Nyra lowered her gaze again.
“…Okay.”
The word tasted bitter.
But she swallowed it anyway.
—
The rest of the morning passed in a blur of chores.
Dishes.
Sweeping.
Cooking.
Laundry.
Each task heavier than the last, not because of the work—but because of the weight pressing down on her chest.
Her small moment of happiness from earlier felt like a distant memory.
Still—
She didn’t stop.
She couldn’t.
By the time she was done, her hands were rough, her back aching, but she forced herself to stand straight.
This was her escape.
Even if it was small.
Even if it was temporary.
She went to her room, closing the door softly behind her.
For a moment, she leaned against it, eyes shut.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Then she moved.
She changed into her simple outfit, brushing her hair carefully, tying it neatly. There was nothing extraordinary about her appearance—but there was something quiet, something strong, in the way she carried herself.
She looked at herself in the mirror.
Tired eyes.
Faint determination.
A girl who refused to completely break.
Nyra Ashen picked up her bag.
And without another word—
She walked out of the house.
Toward the café.
Toward something… different.
Even if the world wasn’t ready to be kind to her.
Maybe—
Just maybe—
She could learn how to survive it anyway.The café stood quietly at the corner of the street, as if it didn’t belong to the noisy world around it.
Nyra paused outside for a moment.
It was… beautiful.
Warm golden lights glowed through tall glass windows. Inside, polished wooden tables blended perfectly with vintage frames on the walls, while modern décor added a soft elegance. It felt like two different eras had met and decided to stay together.
For a second, Nyra forgot everything.
Then she pushed the door open.
A soft chime echoed.
“Good morning,” a calm voice greeted.
Nyra turned to see a man in his early thirties behind the counter, wearing a simple smile.
“You must be Nyra,” he said.
“Yes… sir.”
He shook his head lightly. “Josh. Just Josh.”
“Okay… Josh.”
He handed her a neatly folded uniform. “You’ll be working the front counter mostly. Take orders, handle payments. Don’t worry, it’s simple. I’ll guide you.”
Nyra nodded, holding the uniform carefully.
“And one more thing,” Josh added with a small smile, “this place runs on calm energy. No panic. No rush. Even when it’s busy.”
Nyra gave a faint nod.
Calm.
She wasn’t sure she remembered what that felt like.
—
After changing, Nyra stepped back out, adjusting her sleeves nervously.
Just then, the door chimed again.
A boy walked in—tall, slightly messy hair, an easygoing expression.
“Yo, Josh,” he said casually.
Josh looked up. “Right on time, Alen.”
Alen’s eyes shifted to Nyra. “New?”
Nyra hesitated for a second, then nodded. “Yes.”
He walked closer, offering a small smile. “I’m Alen Volvox.”
“Nyra Ashen.”
“First day?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He chuckled softly. “Relax. It’s not as scary as it looks.”
“I’m not scared,” Nyra replied quietly.
Alen raised an eyebrow. “Good. Then you’ll survive.”
A small silence followed, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.
“Counter?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Cool,” he nodded. “I handle serving. So don’t mess up the orders.”
Nyra looked at him. “Then don’t drop them.”
He smirked. “Fair enough.”
—
Soon, the café filled with people.
The calm atmosphere Josh mentioned didn’t disappear—it just became… alive.
“Two cappuccinos.”
“One cold brew.”
“Table three—latte.”
Nyra’s fingers moved quickly across the register, her voice steady as she repeated orders. Alen moved just as fast, picking up trays, delivering drinks with practiced ease.
For the first time in a long while—
Nyra felt… normal.
Busy.
Focused.
Useful.
—
It was around noon when the door chimed again.
Nyra didn’t look up immediately.
“Table for two,” a deep voice said.
Her hand froze.
Slowly—
She looked up.
And her breath stopped.
Adrian Voss.
For a split second, everything went silent.
Him.
Here.
His eyes met hers.
Recognition flashed instantly.
Nyra’s heart pounded.
But her face?
Blank.
Like she had never seen him before.
Adrian tilted his head slightly, a faint, amused smile forming.
Interesting.
Beside him, Felix Dimitriev noticed the exchange. His lips curved into a teasing grin.
“Oh,” Felix murmured, “this looks fun.”
Nyra forced herself to speak. “Your order?”
Adrian’s gaze lingered on her for a moment longer than necessary.
“Black coffee,” he said.
Felix added, “And one mocha.”
Nyra typed it in quickly. “Take a seat.”
They didn’t move immediately.
Adrian leaned slightly closer to the counter.
“Clumsy people shouldn’t work in places like this,” he said softly.
Nyra’s jaw tightened.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied.
Felix almost laughed.
Adrian’s smile deepened.
“Right,” he said. “Of course you don’t.”
—
“Order ready!” Alen called.
He picked up the tray and walked toward their table.
Nyra stayed at the counter, trying to steady her breathing.
Why him?
Out of all places—
Why here?
—
After some time, they finished.
And then—
They walked to the counter.
Nyra looked up again, already irritated.
Felix leaned casually against the side. “Bill, please.”
Nyra told them the amount.
Adrian pulled out cash and placed it on the counter.
Nyra glanced at it.
Too much.
Her brows furrowed.
“This is more than the bill.”
Adrian didn’t respond.
Nyra pushed the extra money back toward him. “Take it.”
“No.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”
He looked at her calmly. “Consider it compensation.”
“For what?” she snapped.
“For ruining my expensive shirt.”
Nyra stared at him.
Then let out a short, sarcastic laugh.
“Oh, so now you remember?” she said. “Mr. Expensive Shirt.”
Felix let out an amused breath. “That’s a new one.”
Adrian’s eyes darkened slightly, but the amusement didn’t leave. “Careful.”
“Or what?” Nyra shot back. “You’ll charge me interest too?”
“You should be grateful I’m being generous.”
Nyra pushed the money harder toward him. “I don’t need your generosity.”
“And yet,” he said, glancing around, “you work here.”
The words hit.
But she didn’t step back.
“At least I work,” she replied sharply. “Not walk around throwing money to feel important.”
Felix laughed openly now. “Okay, I like her.”
Adrian picked up the extra money slowly.
“Still stubborn,” he murmured.
Nyra frowned. “I don’t even know you.”
A pause.
A very small pause.
Then Adrian smiled again.
“Right,” he said. “You don’t.”
He turned and walked away.
Felix gave Nyra one last teasing look before following him.
“See you around, Mr. Expensive Shirt,” he called playfully.
Nyra exhaled sharply.
Annoyed.
Confused.
And something else she refused to name.
—
“Hey,” Alen’s voice broke her thoughts.
She turned.
“You know that guy?” he asked.
Nyra shook her head instantly. “No.”
Alen studied her for a second… then shrugged. “Didn’t look like ‘no’.”
“It is,” she said firmly.
He didn’t push further.
—
Evening came quietly.
The café emptied.
The lights softened again.
Josh walked over and handed Nyra an envelope.
“Your advance,” he said.
Nyra blinked. “Already?”
“You did well today.”
Her fingers tightened around the envelope.
“Thank you.”
—
Outside, the sky had turned orange.
Nyra opened the envelope slightly.
Money.
Real money.
A small smile appeared.
Then faded.
Half of it…
Gone.
Her grip tightened.
Riya.
Her little sister, miles away in Italy, chasing a future Nyra couldn’t have.
College fees.
Living expenses.
Dreams that depended on her.
Nyra looked up at the sky.
Happy.
And heavy.
At the same time.
She closed the envelope carefully.
No matter what—
She wouldn’t let Riya struggle.
Even if it meant enduring everything else.
Nyra Ashen walked forward.
Because stopping—
Was never an option.
" TO BE CONTINUED "
____________________________________________________________
Author's note....
Heyyyyy readers 😁😁😁
What do you think about Nyra’s situation?
Do you feel bad for her, or do you think she should stand up more?
Let me know your thoughts—I’d love to hear your opinions! 🖤
Good bye dear readers... let's meet with another chapter....👋👋👋👋
Write a comment ...