Tessa

Saturday mornings were for second chances.

At least, that’s what Tessa told herself as she juggled her camera bag, a travel mug of coffee, and Moose’s leash in one hand, trying not to spill everything on her way down the stairs.

Today was her first official freelance job in the city — family portraits at the park.
It wasn’t glamorous, but it was a paycheck.
And it was a step toward proving she could make this new life work.

“You’re going to be good, right?” she said to Moose, who responded by immediately trying to chew on the strap of her bag.

She shook her head fondly. “Right. That’s about what I expected.”

Out on the street, the day was crisp and bright, the kind of morning that made everything feel a little more possible.

Tessa tightened Moose’s leash and started toward the little patch of green a few blocks away, rehearsing her client’s name in her head — The Morgans. No relation. She hoped.

She was halfway down the block when a familiar voice called out.

“Running away already?”

Tessa whirled around, nearly spilling her coffee.

Standing by the door of The Nook was Lucy, a rag tucked into the waistband of her apron, a wicked grin lighting up her face.

Tessa laughed, the knot in her chest loosening a little.
“Big important career moves,” she said dramatically, striking a mock-serious pose with her camera. “I’m about to be wildly famous.”

Lucy leaned against the doorframe. “I’ll be sure to tell everyone I knew you when you still had coffee stains on your shoes.”

Tessa looked down. Sure enough, a large dribble of latte was decorating her left sneaker.

She groaned. “I’m so professional.”

Lucy just laughed. “You’ll be great. Knock ’em dead, Tessa.”

Buoyed by the encouragement, Tessa gave Moose an encouraging tug. “Come on, buddy. Let’s go make art.”

---

Graham

Graham had swung by the office to grab a few files.
Just a five-minute thing, he’d told himself.

And yet, here he was — coffee in hand, trying to enjoy the rare quiet of a Saturday morning — when chaos wandered straight back into his line of sight.

Tessa, with her lopsided bag and her ridiculous dog and her sneakers stained with coffee, marching determinedly down the sidewalk like the entire city belonged to her.

He shook his head.

Of course Moose yanked her off balance at the last second, causing her to nearly stumble into a lamppost.

Of course she laughed about it instead of getting angry.

Lucy caught his eye from the doorway of The Nook and raised an eyebrow meaningfully.

Graham scowled and muttered, “No.”

Lucy just smirked and disappeared back inside.

He watched for one more second — just to make sure she didn’t actually fall into traffic, he told himself — then turned and headed for the realtor’s office next door.

He had more important things to do than babysit chaos.

He absolutely did not watch the way the morning sun caught in her hair as she disappeared around the corner.

---

Tessa

By the time she made it to the park, Tessa’s nerves were jangling.

The Morgans — an overly energetic family of five — were already assembled by the fountain, waving frantically at her.

She plastered on her best professional smile, clipped Moose’s leash to a nearby bench, and got to work.

The kids were adorable but impossible to wrangle. The parents kept blinking at the wrong time. Moose kept barking every time someone laughed.

Still — as the session unfolded, Tessa found herself relaxing.
She was in her element now.
Behind the lens, everything made sense.

“Okay, on the count of three,” she called out, framing the shot, “say ‘cheese pizza’!”

The kids erupted in laughter — a real, beautiful sound — and Tessa clicked the shutter at just the right second.

Magic.

She grinned, checking the preview on her camera.
Maybe she could do this.
Maybe she didn’t need a perfect plan or a five-year timeline or anyone’s permission.

Maybe messy, chaotic beginnings were enough.

---

Graham

Later that afternoon, Graham found himself outside again, trying to enjoy a rare break from his endless self-imposed workday with a coffee from The Nook.

He sat at one of the outdoor tables, paperwork tucked under his arm, determined to focus.

It was going well — until chaos came barreling back into his field of vision.

Tessa, trailing Moose, arms full of something — a camera bag, a tote stuffed with what looked like snacks, a water bottle, a sweater tangled around her elbow.

Moose made a sharp turn toward a pigeon and jerked Tessa directly into Graham’s table.

His coffee sloshed dangerously.

“Sorry! Sorry!” she gasped, wrestling Moose back into line and dropping half her stuff in the process.

Graham caught the water bottle before it could roll into the street.

Tessa looked up at him, cheeks pink, hair in total disarray, smiling that ridiculous, unbothered smile.

“Hey,” she said, like crashing into people was a normal greeting.

Graham sighed, handing her the bottle. “You again.”

“Yeah,” she said cheerfully. “It’s a theme.”

Moose wagged his tail like he agreed.

Graham opened his mouth — probably to say something grumpy — but then he caught the faint smudge of flour on her cheek, the crumbs in her camera bag, the spark in her eyes.

Instead, against all logic, he said:
“Did it at least go well?”

Tessa blinked at him, surprised.
Then she grinned.

“It was a mess,” she said brightly. “But a good mess.”

For a second — just a second — Graham almost smiled.

Almost.