Chapter 3
Tab
There comes a point in everyone’s life where they are sick of their own shit, and I’ve been at that point for the past two days now.
I’m sick of my own inner monologue. It replays the fire.
It relives the suffocation. It even has made-up conversations with people because the only people I see are Raeann and Micah.
I’m used to being so busy. Helping at the shop, packing orders, posting on our social media—
Wait… Who has been doing that? How did I forget to do that?
I walk over to the house phone that Micah helpfully placed in my room and call the shop. Jace answers.
“How’s my favorite employee?”
“Tab!” I can practically hear the grin on his face, and it makes me smile. I’m so glad Micah dropped the idea of firing him because he really was a lifesaver, and from what I hear from Raeann, he’s continued to be.
“Hey.” Emotion suddenly clogs my throat, and I have to poise myself before starting again. “Is she right there? Don’t let on that it’s me, but I was sitting here thinking and wondered who has been doing the social media? Please don’t say Rae-bae.”
Jace chuckles then his voice moves to a whisper. “She’s in the back, and you’re safe. Sunny took it over. She’s good, too. Hey, I’ve tried reaching out.”
I take in a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I don’t have my phone.
It was lost in…the fire, and Raeann thinks I don’t need one right now.
” That last line is a bit of a copout, and a gross underestimation of what’s been going on.
As one can imagine, Micah Freeman’s girlfriend being involved in a house fire was big news.
Reporters, social media comments, the whole nine yards.
Both of us decided we would lay low while things died down.
“Well, she certainly is handling everything, so no worries on that front. I just wanted you to know I’ve been thinking about you. We miss you around here.”
“Is that Tab?” a female voice asks. For a second, I think it might be Raeann but quickly realize it’s Katya when she squeals. “Tell her I say hello.”
The phone muffles for a second. “Hello?” I pull the phone away and look at it when no one responds right away, then put it back to my ear.
“Excuse you,” Raeann’s voice rings out with that cute, country twang that seems to deepen when she’s all up in her attitude. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”
“I was, but then I decided to torture myself with real-life stuff and remembered that I usually do Pet Threads’ social media and then proceeded to worry someone forgot about it.”
“That someone being me?”
“Well, you have a lot on your plate.”
“I have a lot on my plate?” The question sits out there before she sighs. “Everything is fine here. You don’t need to worry.”
“Rae-bae, I’m going crazy. I think I’ve literally entered the dimension of psycho where I’m answering my own questions, but it sounds like the me that is me is a completely different person.”
“I don’t even know what you’re saying.”
“See! I’ve completely lost the plot!”
“Do you want to go out to lunch? Maybe we can find a quiet place somewhere to chat for a little while.”
A murmur sounds in the background before Raeann covers up the phone, whispering, “It’s fine. I can do that, too.” Then the line unmuffles.
I want so badly to leave this place, but I can’t bother Raeann. Not when she’s holding down the fort. I already feel like a burden with my bandage changes and keeping her and Micah from moving in together. “No, it’s okay. I suddenly feel tired. I think I’ll lie back down.”
“Are you sure?”
“One hundred percent.”
“Okay. I’ll see you later.”
“See ya.”
I drum my fingers against my thigh. Just because she can’t go with me doesn’t mean I can’t go out by myself.
I heave open the closet in my room. I vaguely remember Raeann hanging up clothes in here after we first moved in.
She told me we’d go on a huge shopping spree when I felt better since all of our things were lost in the fire, but these clothes would do for now.
I find a pair of sweats and an oversized sweatshirt—something that hopefully won’t rub against my bandages too badly but hide them enough that I won’t get embarrassed—and then grab a purse from the hook on the wall. Perfect.
I make a brief pit stop in the attached bathroom to throw my hair on top of my head, but then I get an almost instant headache, so I put it back down again and spray nearly a whole can of dry shampoo on it, making it at least look presentable.
My stomach churns as I head to the elevator.
I haven’t walked out of this building in weeks, and never by myself.
It’s just coffee, I tell myself. A quick little trip, something I would’ve done without thinking before the fire, so why my stomach feels like it’s gnawing on itself when the elevator doors open and I walk inside, I’m not sure.
Maybe because if Raeann finds out I left on my own, she’d lose it.
I breathe in deep, trying to relax. The elevator deposits me on the bottom floor, and when the doors open, I’m taken aback.
I forgot how opulent the foyer was in this building.
My gaze is drawn toward ornate columns that rise to the ceiling and split into carved arches, all spotlighted by the most intricate, show-stopping chandeliers I’ve ever seen.
The fanciness of this building does nothing to help loosen the unease inside my stomach. In fact, it pulls tighter.
You don’t belong here, whispers through my brain in an echo chamber, and judging by the looks the doorman sends me, he thinks the same.
Once outside, though, the fresh air hits me, and I stand for a moment, feeling the sun on my face and the breeze lift my hair. Perfect. Normal.
I stand there for entirely too long, feeling the brush of my prior self. The girl who wasn’t scared to go out in public. The girl who didn’t avoid people or feel sorry for herself.
It fuels me as I glance left, then right. Raeann has been bringing me coffee from a place called The Daily Perk, and I spot it on my second look around. They have the best caramel lattes I’ve ever had.
People brush by, engrossed in their own minds, talking on their phones, and in general, ignoring my very existence, which does wonders for my confidence.
I’ve been shut up in my room, but the whole world kept turning.
Things kept happening. It goes to show you how disconnected we all are.
We see some tragedy on the news, but what can we do but go on with our everyday life?
Raeann must have felt this way after her world turned upside down.
Like everyone else kept on living while she was stuck in her own nightmare.
I cross the street when traffic clears. Once I’m close enough to the building, the smell of delicious coffee reaches my nostrils, and I smile, picking up the pace. Though the aroma of coffee beans seems like such a small thing, it’s big to me.
There are a few people here and there when I walk inside, some sitting at tables with their laptops open or chatting low on the phone. I walk up to the counter and make my order, making sure the sleeves of my sweatshirt are down to hide the bandages.
The barista smiles. “That’ll be $9.83.”
I open my purse to swipe my card and freeze. My stomach drops. There’s no wallet in here. Nothing is in here. “Oh my God.”
I swallow a lump in my throat. I haven’t seen my wallet since before the fire.
I’m sure Raeann has it somewhere or for all I know, it burned up, but that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t have it now.
I reach for my back pocket to use my phone wallet, but I don’t have a phone either. I knew that.
“Okay, this is embarrassing. I…um…”
“Cancel that last order,” the barista yells out.
“I usually do have money.” I pitch my voice lower. “I’m actually a business owner, I just…”
The barista looks me up and down. Not in a judgmental way, but her lips turn down all the same. She feels sorry for me. Which is so much worse.
“I’m fine. I’m just—”
“Tab? Holy shit.”
That accent? Unmistakable. I might keel over and die right here.
I peer up to find Levi Soucy walking toward me, looking like the hunky dreamboat he is.
Dark hair perfectly styled. Larger-than-life muscles.
That face. It’s even more gorgeous with the surprised smile he’s giving me, and suddenly, I’m thrust into the past, staring through sooty lashes at this face.
Unmarred. Hopeful. A beacon of light when I was pretty sure I was dying.
He wraps his arms around me and squeezes, pulling me out of my fascination. I hiss a little at the contact, and he immediately backs away. “I’m so sorry. I forgot for a minute.”
Forgot? I look like a hobo compared to him. He’s wearing designer jeans and a black tee that hugs his biceps. My outfit screams I lost everything in a fire and am burned all the way down one arm.
“Did you order yet?” Levi whips out his card. “May I have an Americano with whatever she’s having?”
The barista stares at us, and I feel even more foolish. “I didn’t actually order anything. I don’t have my wallet anymore. Or maybe I do, but I don’t know where it is. And Raeann’s at work.” I open my purse and show him how empty it is. “I just grabbed it. I didn’t think.”
He drops his arm around me. “I am buying this brave woman whatever she wants,” he announces, his southern accent dripping honey all over the already generous sentiment.
“I’m not—”
“Order something, Tabitha.”
The way he says it perks me right up. “Can I get that caramel latte?”
“And she wants a muffin, too,” Levi says.
“I’m okay,” I insist.
“Order a muffin, or I’ll order the worst one on the menu.”
“Chocolate chip?” I ask the barista.
She nods, and Levi says, “Make that two. Oh, and I’ll take a couple of those cookies and one of those brownies. Maybe a few more of those muffins.”
“Anything else?” the barista asks, a sly smile on her face.