Chapter 1
The Space Between Us
Chapter One
Nana Mensah hated rainy mornings.
Rain meant fewer customers at the café, longer shifts, and endless hours of pretending to be busy while staring out at the grey streets of Accra. It also meant her mood would stay as gloomy as the sky.
"You're frowning again," Efua said, sliding a tray of freshly baked pastries onto the display shelf.
"I'm not frowning."
"You always say that while frowning."
Nana ignored her and reached for a cloth to wipe down an already spotless table. It was only eight in the morning, yet she already wanted the day to end.
University had been on strike for nearly two months, leaving her with nothing to do except work at Bean & Brew Café and worry about the future. Everyone around her seemed to have a plan. Her younger brother had already decided he wanted to become an engineer. Her best friend was applying for internships. Even her mother had a five-year plan.
Nana had none.
The bell above the café door chimed.
She looked up automatically.
It was him.
He walked in exactly as he did every weekday—dark hoodie, backpack slung over one shoulder, headphones around his neck, and a book in his hand. He nodded politely at the staff before making his way to the table by the window.
"Your favourite customer is here," Efua whispered.
Nana glared at her. "He is not my favourite customer."
"Really? Then why do you suddenly know his order by heart?"
Nana opened her mouth to argue, then closed it again.
Because Efua was right.
"One black coffee. No sugar," she muttered.
"Exactly."
Nana prepared the coffee herself.
She had never spoken more than three words to the stranger, but she knew a surprising amount about him. He came every weekday. He always carried books. He preferred sitting by the window. He occasionally smiled while reading, as if the characters were sharing secrets only he could understand.
She wondered what his story was.
"Coffee for window seat," she called.
No response.
Typical.
With a sigh, she carried the mug to his table.
"Your coffee."
He looked up.
For a second, Nana forgot what she was about to say.
He had kind eyes. The sort that made people feel seen.
"Thank you," he said.
His voice was deeper than she expected.
As she turned to leave, she accidentally bumped the edge of the table.
The coffee spilled.
Straight onto his book.
"Oh my God!" Nana gasped.
The stranger jumped to his feet, trying to save the pages, but the damage was already done.
"I'm so sorry," Nana said, horrified. "I didn't mean—"
"It's okay," he interrupted, though he looked disappointed.
"No, it's not okay. I ruined your book."
She grabbed a handful of tissues and began wiping the table.
"It's just a book."
"Just a book?" Nana stared at him. "Books are never just books."
For the first time since entering the café, he smiled.
A real smile.
"You read?"
"Every chance I get."
He looked down at the ruined novel.
"Then maybe you'll appreciate how tragic this is."
Nana laughed despite herself.
"I'll replace it."
"You don't have to."
"I insist."
He studied her for a moment.
"Alright," he said. "But only if you let me buy you coffee when you do."
Nana blinked.
Was he asking her out?
Before she could answer, Efua appeared beside her.
"Nana, your mother is on the phone."
Nana looked from Efua to the stranger.
"I'll be back."
But when she returned five minutes later, he was gone.
The only thing left on the table was a small piece of paper.
Written across it was:
You don't owe me a book anymore. But you do owe me a conversation.
Beneath the message was a name.
Eli.
