Why We Must Let Go Of What We Can’t Control
“I got you something,” he said, motioning towards the small paper bag marked Royal Coffee Bar lying on the dining room table. It was 10:30 a.m. on an October morning in 2014.
“A donut?” I asked as I picked it up.
“A donut hole. They said it was made with love,” he replied back with a smirk.
I took a small bite and imagined him standing at the coffee bar in his navy cardigan, exchanging words with a young female barista.
Like so many Scottsdale girls, it was likely lust ...