Chapter 20 #2
Billie nodded once and turned away before her emotions could give her away.
She would head out of the restaurant and find another place to eat.
Billie didn’t allow herself to breathe properly until she reached the pavement, the restaurant door closing behind her with a finality that brought tears to her eyes.
The sudden pain she felt in her chest wasn’t intense or dramatic. It was far worse than that. It was a slow, heavy weight that pressed down on her ribs, and it was the kind of weight that came from understanding something when it was too late.
She’d told herself that this was necessary. That the distance she’d forced between them was protection and the only way to keep Debra safe from Billie’s history, her…damage. From the parts of herself she still didn’t trust.
But standing alone, her heart breaking, Billie admitted the truth she’d been avoiding for weeks now. She hadn’t protected Debra at all. She’d protected herself…and it had cost her everything.
This is where you belong. Nowhere else.
The shop was in darkness as Billie slipped the key into the lock and forced the door open.
She flicked on a single overhead light, unable to deal with brightness this evening, and stopped in the middle of the floor.
Everything in here was perfectly still and arranged.
Like Billie herself, everything was predictable.
She didn’t want to go home. She couldn’t face the misery waiting for her. Her flat felt too empty lately, yet too full of the very ghost she’d tried to outrun for a decade. At least in here, the air knew who she was supposed to be.
She slipped her coat off, hung it up, and checked that the door had closed behind her. Her steps echoed as she moved down the hallway, the rhythm grounding her and reminding her of the life she’d built long before Debra Allen had walked in and changed it without realising it.
Billie entered her office and lowered herself into a chair, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. She rubbed the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut as the image of Debra at that table replayed in excruciating detail.
The laughter and the wine-flushed cheeks. The blueness of her eyes and the softness of her personality…all with someone else. It felt as though someone had taken a knife straight to her heart.
She swallowed and forced air into her lungs. She had no right to feel like this. She had told Debra to walk away. So why did it hurt like Billie had been the one left behind?
She reached for the bottle of whiskey she kept tucked away, hidden, not for indulgence but for moments like this, when her own thoughts were too loud. She poured a finger’s width into a glass, took a slow sip, and let the burn ease its way down into her chest.
Through her open office door, the lights on the shop floor came to life. Billie tensed, rising halfway from her chair.
“Miss Brown?” Nina’s tentative voice floated down the hallway. “Are you here? Hello?”
Billie blew out a deep breath and lowered herself back into her chair as Nina appeared in the doorway. She was dressed like she’d just come from dinner, but it didn’t explain why she was now standing in front of Billie. “What are you doing here?”
“I had dinner with my sister,” Nina said as she stepped inside. “I walked past on my way home and saw a light on. I thought…well.” She shrugged awkwardly. “I wanted to check that everything was okay and make sure the place was locked up properly.”
That loyalty, her fierce, unconditional protectiveness over the business…it meant more than Billie could ever explain. “Thank you for checking.”
Nina nodded, then paused before crossing the room. “Is everything okay? You seem…upset.”
Billie stared down at her glass, weighing the truth against the silence she usually kept. “I’m fine. It’s been a long night.”
Nina approached cautiously, but Billie didn’t expect anything different. She was hardly welcoming these days. “Do you want some company?”
Billie knew she should say no. She should dismiss her assistant and retreat into the solitude she’d always considered her armour. Instead, she gestured to the second glass on the oak unit to her right. “Pour yourself one.”
“Really?”
Billie looked up at Nina. “I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it.”
She poured a small amount and sat gingerly on the chair opposite Billie. After a few minutes, Nina crossed her legs and sighed. “You’ve been…different. For weeks now.”
Billie clenched her jaw. “I know.”
“Is it work? Is something going on with the business?”
“No, no. The business is doing just fine.”
Nina angled her head and searched Billie’s eyes. “Is it her?”
Billie’s eyes burned as she shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Okay.”
Another moment passed before Billie murmured, “Everything used to make sense.”
Nina watched her carefully, most likely weighing up her response. “It still can.”
“Right.” Billie scoffed. “That’s optimistic of you.”
“It’s not optimism. It’s just…truth. You built everything in this place from the ground up. This shop works because of you. I work the way I do because of you.” Nina paused. “You’re allowed to fall apart sometimes.”
Billie looked at her fully for the first time tonight, seeing the comfort in her expression.
Nina cared about the shop, about the work, and yes, perhaps about Billie in ways that went unspoken but not unnoticed.
This was her normal. Nina was…safe for her.
And Billie found herself wanting to reach for that safety, because the alternative hurt too much.
She straightened in her chair, slipped her mask back into place, and reverted to the cool composure she had been accustomed to before Debra Allen had stepped into her life.
“Nina.”
“Y-yes?” Nina gazed back at her with a sweet smile on her lips.
“Your attitude recently has been unacceptable.”
Nina bowed her head. “I-I know. I’m sorry.”
“And tonight, you walked into my shop uninvited.”
Nina visibly swallowed. “I was worried. I thought someone had broken in.”
“I know. I understand why you came.” Billie set her empty glass aside and stood, approaching slowly.
The old dynamic—clean, structured, and intoxicatingly controlled—slid back into place like a well-tailored blazer.
“But you will not cross that line again. You will not demand answers from me about my life. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Nina whispered.
Billie stepped closer. “Good.”
“Does this mean things are back to normal?”
Billie lifted a hand and cupped her jaw. Then, with an authority that made Nina’s breath hitch, she said, “Yes.”
“Thank you. I…I’m glad.”
Billie gave a single nod as Nina slid from her seat to her knees in front of her, her hand inching its way to Billie’s belt buckle.
But something deep inside of her recoiled.
Because it wasn’t relief she felt as she looked down at Nina, it was defeat.
She hadn’t grown or made her life better; she’d simply chosen to claw her way back to the version of herself she’d built out of fear and habit, trying desperately to fit into a life that suddenly felt too tight and too small.
But for tonight, she would let her old world settle around her. It was easier than feeling everything she was trying not to feel.
Debra didn’t know what she was doing outside Brown she saw the woman she’d touched so carefully harden.
“I shouldn’t have come here,” Debra said as she lifted a hand and took a step back. “I don’t know why I bothered at all. Perhaps I thought you would have been different after seeing me at the restaurant. But you’re just the same as you always are. I don’t need that in my life.”
That did it. Whatever fragile thread Billie had been holding onto had snapped.
“I told you to forget about me!” Billie’s voice was stone cold and distant in a way Debra had never heard before. Her nostrils flared as she clenched her hand into a fist and slammed it down on the desk. “You should have listened!”
The shift in Billie was brutal. Debra’s breath caught as she stared back at her. “Oh, there you are. The real Billie Brown.”
Billie’s face fell, the colour draining from it in real time.
“I won’t make the mistake of seeking you out again.”
“Debra! Wait!”
But Debra was already turning and leaving the office. She didn’t want an explanation, and she didn’t want Billie to try to undo the damage. She just wanted to get home so her heart could break within the privacy of her miserable four walls.