That's how Maddy found her new normal.

One day, everything can just change. It might just be one, little thing that changes, but that one, little thing can ripple through your life like a seismic wave, knocking down everything in its path until the landscape of your life looks completely different.

That's what losing Thea was like.

Everything looks different, like navigating new waters despite the fact that nothing else has changed. In the aftermath of her loss, Maddy had to find a new normal.

The weekdays are hard. She goes to work and loses herself in old books and pages that smell like  comfort until it's time to go home. She cooks alone, eats alone, goes to bed alone and in the morning, she does it all again.

But her weekends are set in stone, and she shares them with a stranger.

They arrive at Coffee Club for 1pm and sit at a table made for three. Like the number of chairs, there are three unspoken rules for their visit:

1. You don't say a word
2. You take turns buying the third drink
3. You leave when the sun has set

These afternoons are unusual, for Maddy. She looks forward to them all week, and yet, when she's there, the grief she often feels is too much to speak.

The time she spends at that table is hers completely. Sometimes she uses it to reminisce, to remember all the moments, good and bad, so that they may be eternal. Other times she tries to forget, to indulge in the hours that she doesn't have to spend alone.

Sometimes they read together, sometimes they just sit and sip and stare.

Maddy isn't blind. She knows the stranger that she spends her Saturday afternoons with is handsome. She also knows he's in pain, and hides it behind calloused hands and an icy stare. He has good taste in books and bad taste in jumpers, but then, so does she.

His drink, like hers, smells like cinnamon, and because of that, she's starting to find his presence more and more comforting.

They've been at it for weeks and this strange routine seems to suit them both, or at least, she thought it did. But today is hard. Was always going to be hard.

Because today is Thea's birthday. The odds of it falling on a Saturday were slim, and yet, like a slap in the face, it has. Maddy wants to curl up in bed and cry. She wants to stare at the wall and sob and maybe throw something until she feels better, but she has an appointment and she's not missed it yet.

She is loathe to miss it today.

When she looks at herself in the mirror, she grimaces. The image is a definite reflection on how she feels, but as her hand runs through her limp brown hair, she knows there's no point fighting it. Not today.

Her eyes are already red-rimmed and pinched with a sad look that she can't shake, so instead she nudges her glasses on and hopes that her green sweater draws attention away from them. She shoves her headphones into her tote, choosing to leave her book at home. Instead, she grabs a photograph and a woven bracelet and slips those into her bag.

Mementos, something tangible for her to hold on to, because today, she's afraid the memories won't be enough. She's afraid that she might float away entirely, and with nothing to ground her, to keep her safe, she might never return.

She moves like a ghost, going through the motions and before she knows it she's arrived at her destination.

The same guy is on the till and he looks sad too. It's almost comforting. She glances at their table, finding it empty, and nods. He nods back at her, beginning the ritual of her drink without prompting. She waits silently, staring at nothing until the cups are slid over to her. 

When he charges her, her hand hesitates over the card reader. The numbers are wrong, too low. She glances at the barista and he shoots her a small smile, and a shake of his head.

"Not today, it's on the house." He says and her blood runs cold at the notion.

She hadn't realised that he'd known Thea, and immediately feels insensitive. Of course he knew her. They worked here together, and she supposes that while Maddy had never really spoken to him back then, he must know Maddy too.

"Thank you." She whispers, and he smiles.

"Thank you." He says back.

She's unsure what he's thanking her for. Being here, honouring her, or just remembering. Regardless, she is duty bound. There's nothing to thank her for.

She nods, unable to say anything else. Instead she moves to her table, setting everything up in the usual way. She takes her seat and places her tote on her lap, her fingers able to brush against the edges of the photograph.

She doesn't look at it just yet, unsure whether she has the strength to, but it's nice to feel it there. Her fingers wind around the fabric bracelet, holding it close as she counts the little knotted bumps like prayer beads. With every little bump, another memory to hold tight to. Another moment to cherish. Another wish that can't possibly come true.

Her stranger arrives at 1pm on the dot and the sight of him allows Maddy to exhale properly for the first time in ten minutes. She's not sure why, but she had been afraid he wouldn't come today. And today, more than ever, she feels like she needs him.

He's stoic and rigid at the counter, not even looking at the barista and Maddy's chest aches. If today is hard for her, he looks even worse.

He makes his way to the table slowly, his movements sluggish, and it takes him a while to make eye contact. When he does, Maddy isn't surprised. His eyes are red and tired, and she almost finds it amusing that they match.

She isn't sure if it's fatigue, or something worse, but she finds that she doesn't mind. She's just so grateful that he's here. The edges of his lips twitch upward in a half-hearted smile and she returns it the best that she knows how.

They sit together in silence and the shop remains quiet around them. Maddy passes the time with counting every memory, each one more painful than the last as she is reminded that there won't be any more.

She wonders what Thea would be spending her day doing, if she were here, and how she'll never grow another year older. The timer on her stopwatch has been stopped, the race continuing for everyone else while she remains frozen, forever twenty-five.

A noise breaks her focus and she's glad, because she can feel the sting of tears in her eyes, and she really doesn't want to cry.

When she glances up, however, she feels every part of her body sink.

The sound was a sob. Soft and guttural, coming from the very deepest part of her stranger's chest. His head is held low, so low his chin almost touches his chest, but she can see the glistening drops falling on his clasped hands like a tiny, localised storm.

The sight makes her chest feel hollow, so much worse than her own pain and it radiates through her like waves. His distress is palpable, and drives her forwards without a thought.

They have a completely removed relationship, Maddy and her stranger. While they might be intimately familiar with the silent company of the other, they've never touched or spoken, and Maddy had been happy with that. There really hasn't been any reason to.

Until now.

Her hand, soft and small, wraps around his. The action is slow, so slow that it couldn't possibly startle anybody, but the contact causes him to still for just a moment. Ordinarily she'd be mortified, but she doesn't care, because she'd rather die than leave him to be alone.

He's not alone, and she needs him to know that.

He glances up, for just a moment, and meets her gaze. She isn't sure what he finds there, for he looks away almost immediately, but she feels his fingers wrap around hers. She feels his hand squeeze against hers, the warmth and strength of his grip.

It feels real and tangible, it feels like a rock that she can cling to amidst this storm.

She squeezes back.