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CAGGIE

Breathe in.. one, two, three.

Breathe out.. one, two, three.

I did it.

I swear, I must look like a moron right now. But I don’t care. I did it. It’s taken, what.. at least 3 months to be able to run like that. And it wasn’t even far. 2 kilometres from my tiny apartment sits my local cafe, Terry’s, and while I’m hunched over begging my lungs to get in some more air, the smell of sweet sweet coffee wafts into my nose.

“Morning Caggie. Need a hand?” Tom knows my order like the back of his hand now, and he has seen me on plenty of bad days, so the concern on his face doesn’t startle me.

“Nope! I’m *gasps* all good. The usual thanks. Throw in a croissant too, I ran here today.”

“Get out of town!” Tom smiles.

“From an oxygen mask 6 months ago to this. Damn girl, your order’s on the house!”

I couldn’t help but smile too. I’ve come a long way. From being that ‘sick girl’ who was trapped in a hospital bed, with no real answer on what was wrong with me, to dragging my legs all the way out for a cappuccino, nothing could get me down. I am woman, here me roar!

“Here you go Cag. Enjoy it - you earnt it honey!”

Tom hands me my coffee and a paper bag with the best smelling pastry, and as I turn to walk back home, this huge person walks straight into me, causing me to drop my croissant and fall into the open bin right behind me.

“Caggie!! Are you alright?!” Tom bellows from behind the coffee machine.

He darts around to help me out. Luckily for me, the injury is more to my pride than my body, although a nice coffee stain on my ass doesn’t help.

The brute of a man who bowled me over stopped for half a second, looked at me sitting in the bin and smirks. Part of me is angry at him, what kind of moron can’t pay attention where he is walking!

But the other part of me wants to devour him like my pastry. That man is all sorts of yummy. I’ve never seen tall, dark and handsome in real life until I’m met with those intense brown eyes, and I can’t remember why I’m angry anymore.

Tom snaps me from staring at him. “Watch it asshole. You don’t own the pavement.”

With that, this stranger laughs, and asks “Are you hurt? Or just got your ass stuck?”

I blush, tomato red. “I’m fine. You can stop faking concern for me now.” Tom helps me up and I’m back standing, picking up my paper bag.

“Next time you fall for me, I’ll make sure I can hang around to get your number. See you around, Caggie - was it?”

I choke back the air that is suddenly stuck in my throat. “Mhmm. Yeah, it’s Caggie”.

“I’m Ollie, but you can call me whatever you like.” He turns and walks away, smiling as he chuckles to himself.

Ollie. That’s a name I won’t forget.