Working in the pub was a stepping stone for her, a way to save money so she could travel one day. But as the years went by, she found herself stuck in a routine—serving drinks every day and dreaming of a future that seemed to slip further away.
“Evening,” James would greet her in a soft, gravelly voice when she approached his table. Their chats were short, just like the meals he ordered—simple, hearty dishes that were nothing like the fancy meals she had dreamed of cooking.