By February, the town was quiet again. The snow had melted a little, leaving puddles on the streets, and gray clouds hung low in the sky.

Mia and Noah were closer than ever—but not every day was perfect.

One evening, after closing the café, Noah sat with a deep frown on his face.

“What’s wrong?” Mia asked gently.

He sighed. “The landlord came today. Rent’s going up. I’m already struggling to cover this month. If things don’t pick up… I might lose the café.”

Mia’s heart sank. “Noah…”

“I didn’t want to tell you,” he said. “But I’ve been pretending everything’s fine, and it’s not. I feel like I’m letting you down.”

“You’re not,” she said quickly. “You’ve built something beautiful here. You’re not alone anymore.”

Noah smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I just feel like I have to carry everything.”

“You don’t,” Mia said, reaching across the table. “We’re in this together now. Let me help.”

He looked at her for a long moment, then nodded.

That night, Mia couldn’t sleep. She thought about how much the café meant—to Noah, to her, to the people who came in every day for warmth and kindness.

She had to do something.

---

The next morning, she had a plan.

She made flyers with hand-drawn coffee cups and big, cheerful letters: “Sunbeam Café — Your Daily Dose of Warmth!”

She handed them out at the library, at the park, and even posted online.

She told everyone about the cozy place with the friendly barista and the best drinks in town.

And people listened.

By the weekend, the café was busier than it had ever been.

Noah stared at the line stretching outside the door.

“What did you do?” he asked, amazed.

Mia smiled. “I shared the sunshine. That’s all.”

---

As the rush continued, Noah started smiling again. Laughing more. Holding Mia’s hand behind the counter when no one was looking.

They were tired—but happy.

One night, after they’d cleaned up from a busy day, Noah stood in the middle of the café, looking around.

“This place survived,” he whispered. “We did it.”

Mia hugged him from behind. “No. You did it.”

He turned and held her close.

“No,” he said, looking into her eyes. “We did it.”

And he kissed her like he meant it—with the quiet fire of someone who had found his person.