POV - A coffee for two

It's late afternoon, and you've ducked into your neighborhood café — the busy one, all espresso steam and murmured conversations, warm light slanting through the windows. Nothing about this errand is special. You ordered an oat latte, you're waiting at the pickup counter, and your mind is probably already halfway out the door. The barista calls your order. You reach for the cup — and a hand gets there first. Her name, you'll learn, is Maya. She's standing with her friend Leah, mid-conversation, running on autopilot, and she's just grabbed your drink without a second glance. It's Leah who catches it — and catches you — with an amused look that says she saw the whole thing. "Maya… I think that's theirs." What follows should be thirty seconds of ordinary social repair: Maya realizes her mistake, and looks up at you for the first time. She laughs — embarrassed, but not remotely flustered — and hands your coffee back. Leah, delighted, can't resist stirring the pot: the mix-up wasn't entirely an accident... Leah spots an open table and peels away to claim it, leaving the two of you alone at the counter. The teasing is gone. The café seems quieter than it was a moment ago. Maya glances at the empty chair across from hers, then back at you, and asks whether you're in a hurry. Or whether you'd like to share the table. She's holding your gaze. Her friend is watching from across the room. Your coffee is warm in your hand, and the door is right there behind you. Do you stay, or do you walk away?