Chapter Nine
I open my eyes in panic at the sound of my phone ringing loudly. For a moment, I don’t even know where I am or what time it is. My fingers fumble for my phone on the nightstand, and when I finally grasp it, I see the name glowing on the screen: Nathaniel Martens.
I clear my throat, my voice still thick with sleep as I swipe to answer.
“Hello, you.”
“Hey, love.” Nathaniel’s voice, warm and familiar, crackles through the line. “Did I wake you? Still asleep?”
“Absolutely not,” I lie, instinctively glancing at the clock on my phone screen. “I’m always awake at 6:00 a.m.”
“Ah, right. Only when you’re with me you sleep in, huh?”
“Exactly,” I reply, smiling lazily. My body sinks deeper into the warmth of my bed, legs still tangled in the sheets. I can almost feel his presence beside me, the way it always feels when we wake up together.
“How was the flight? The hotel? The people?” I ask, my voice still sleepy.
“Tiring, crowded, nice,” he responds. “I would’ve called you last night, but I figured you’d appreciate a good morning call instead.” He lets out his signature, silly laugh.
“I do, genius,” I say. “I got used to you being around here that it feels empty being only Juan Valdez and I.”
“It’s only one week.” His voice drops, and I can picture him leaning back, running a hand through his hair.
“You said you’d try to make it shorter,” I remind him.
“If it were up to me, I wouldn’t be here at all,” he sighs. “Not without you.”
“Certainly not without me,” I echo, feeling the weight of his absence more acutely.
“I hate to cut this short,” he says, “but I’ve got to leave. I’ll call you tonight, alright? Have a great day, love.”
“You too,” I murmur, smiling despite wanting to keep the conversation going. “Enjoy your fancy hotel and extravagant meals.”
He laughs, the sound rich and familiar, and it lingers in my ear after he hangs up.
I place my phone beside me on the bed, staring up at the ceiling for a moment. There’s almost two hours before I need to be up and rush out. Nathaniel’s voice still hums softly in my ears, and I close my eyes, trying to fall asleep again.
It feels like only ten minutes of sleep have passed when my alarm jolts me awake. I groan and glance at the time. 7:45 a.m. Great. Despite the weight of sleep still pressing on me, I drag myself out of bed, the cold floor biting at my feet.
The shower is quick, but needed. I come out and dress up. For today, I pick a dark blue, cotton shirt with a nice, classic collar and a dark blue, circle skirt. I add a thin, black belt around my waist and comb my hair into a low bun, leaving a few strands of hair framing my face, plus the classic red lipstick and mascara combo.
I put on a pair of thicker stockings since the autumn air is getting colder each day, and slip into my favourite Charlie Stone low-heeled shoes—if these shoes could talk, they’d beg for a day off, but they’re too comfortable to leave behind.
The walk to the coffee shop feels indulgent today. Continuing my manifesting routine, I thank the universe for the extra help on Mondays and manifest more days like this. I let myself enjoy the crisp autumn air. The leaves are scattered across the ground, stuck to the pavement from the morning drizzle.
The city’s already buzzing with Monday morning energy. Bakeries and coffee shops are busy, while most other stores are still closed until ten. I nod and smile at a few familiar faces on the way, mouthing good mornings while listening to Feeling Good by Nina Simone, the perfect song to start my day.
When I arrive at the shop at 8:45 a.m., Tatiana is already behind the counter, a line of customers stretching toward the door. Her eyebrows shoot up the moment she spots me, her eyes screaming help me, please . I frown and glance around, searching for Anne, our usual Monday morning backup, but she’s nowhere to be found. I drop my bag in the narrow hallway behind the counter and quickly tie an apron around my waist.
“Where’s Anne?” I ask as I start preparing the orders Tatiana has printed and left to a side.
I grab a mug to slide under the coffee machine, then move over to the matcha station. My movements feel frantic, like I’ve grown eight arms to keep up with the orders piling up.
“Sick, apparently,” Tatiana mutters as she pours milk into a cup. Her voice drips with annoyance. “She sent me a text twenty minutes ago. But she didn’t look sick in the stories she posted from the concert last night,” she says.
I sigh, realizing we are the only ones who really care. Finding staff who see this place in the way we see it is a challenge. This is a place to meet new faces, exchange book titles, discover little pieces of antique decoration, to engage into conversation with people that can be surprising.
We’ve seen conversations spark between strangers, friendships form, and writers find their inspiration.
This place is not only about serving cups of coffee to people that sometimes rush into their day, but also far beyond that. We’ve created a place where people want to stay.
While Tatiana is taking the orders, she prioritizes the takeaways that I try to prepare as fast as possible while still putting my heart into them. My back is turned to the counter when I hear a voice behind me, startling me. When I glance over my shoulder, I see Adam. He’s dressed more casually than usual, blending in.
“You’ve got a full house here!” He smiles, leaning casually against the counter.
“Adam, hey!” I greet him, trying not to spill the matcha I’m whisking. “Yeah, Mondays are always busy. But we manage.”
“You certainly do.” He laughs softly. “Where’s the other kid?”
“You mean Anne?” I pause. “Sick after a concert.” I roll my eyes.
“Ah, yes, I’ve caught that same kind of flu before.” He shakes his head, clearly amused.
“I bet you have.” I smile at him.
“Hey, Adam,” Tatiana greets him briefly. “Liv, can you plate these orders, please?” she asks, showing me the pieces of paper ready on the counter with the orders to prepare.
“Sure, sure,” I respond.
“Hey—let me help you.” Adam comes to meet me behind the counter, rolling his sleeves up.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I shoot him a look, analysing his every move.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” He pauses. “You need help, I’m helping.”
Uh-huh.
“Shouldn’t you be at work?”
“I should, right?” He shrugs. “I’m taking it easy this week. My boss-brother is out of town, so I’m having a casual week.” He moves toward the showcase after washing his hands, and I hand him Anne’s apron. He raises his arms and smiles. I sigh, rolling my eyes as I tie it around his waist. Boys.
He gently takes the slices of cakes and pastries, placing them each on the porcelain plates I left next to him on the counter.
Tatiana and I look at him for a moment.
“Working with a view. Do I tell Anne not to come back?” Tatiana jokes, and I laugh at her comment.
I watch Adam work, he fits effortlessly into the rhythm of the shop. He chats easily with customers, his smile infectious, and I’m sure he’s part of the reason why there are more women than usual today. Even if I don’t feel anything romantic for him, there’s no denying how attractive he is.
“God, can we keep him?” Tatiana whispers, not taking her eyes off him.
I stifle a laugh.
“He’s not a dog, Tate.”
“But why do I want to pet him so badly?” she mutters, and this time I laugh out loud.
Adam glances over, catching us mid-laugh, and winks, as if he knows we’ve been talking about him all along.
When Tatiana heads to the back to check on our Christmas mug order, Adam comes near the counter where I’m working.
“This is actually fun,” he says, leaning forward.
“You know,” I pause. “If you’re ever looking for a job, we could use someone like you,” I mock.
He laughs.
“I thought I was already hired,” he says, making me laugh with him.
The clock reads 2:00 p.m. I glance at him and smile.
“Thanks for your help today, Adam. It’s quieting down now. You can take off the apron.”
“Already? Right when I was getting good at this.” He frowns, but unties the apron and places it over the counter. Folded, oh my .
He looks over at a table of women snapping secret photos of him.
“Not the most subtle crowd, are they?” he teases. I laugh quietly and change the subject.
“So, are you heading back to the office?”
Adam shrugs casually, running a hand through his hair.
“Yeah, but only to grab some work I’ll finish at home. I only go to the office when Nate’s around.” The mention of Nathaniel makes me more interested in the conversation.
“Oh, really? Why’s that?” I ask, tilting my head. He hesitates, his fingers tapping lightly on the counter.
“Our relationship’s been…complicated for a while now,” he admits, and his tone softens. “I guess I go in to show him I care. Even though I could easily work from home. It feels like I need to be present when he’s around.” He pauses, and there’s a hint of vulnerability lingering between us. But he brushes it off with a half-smile, switching gears. “Anyway,” he says, his usual smile returning as if to push away the heavier thoughts, “I just realized you owe me a walk in the park.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“Excuse me? I owe you nothing. You had your walk in the park, and then you turned it into a surprise family party-wedding rehearsal. So, no sir. I don’t owe you a thing.”
He laughs, a little nervous at first, but quickly recovers.
“I’m sorry but—” he says, lifting an eyebrow, the playful challenge in his voice undeniable. “I just worked a part-time shift here, didn’t I? Consider this my payment. A simple walk in the park.” He leans in, daring me to argue.
I open my mouth to protest, but he cuts me off with a quick wave of his hand.
“Nope, not taking ‘no’ for an answer.” He pushes away from the counter, walking backwards toward the door with an easy, confident stride.
“I’ll be here around 8:20 p.m. Be ready.” He flashes me one last smile before stepping outside.
Through the windows, I watch him mouth be ready . I roll my eyes at his persistence, and I see him disappear down the street. Adam and Nathan do resemble each other in a way. Always wanting to do what they want.
A part of me wonders if I should tell Nathan about this. But we’re talking about Adam, his brother. There’s no romantic link between us, even if Adam is unaware of me and Nathan. I try not to give it much thought, and at the same time, it seems silly to call Nathan and say, Hey, your brother came by, and we’re going for a walk later . It’s not like he’s my father, and it’s merely a walk. I send the thought to the back of my mind.
I’m pulled out of my head when I hear my name called in an almost theatrical pitch.
“Olivia! Adam left?” Tatiana asks with a tone of disbelief and drama.
I laugh softly.
“You just missed him,” I say with a casual shrug. “By the way, he’s coming by later, near closing time. We’re going for a walk in the park. Want to join?”
“As your third wheel? No, thank you!” she jokes, her voice dripping with fake disgust.
“There’s no such thing. It’s only two friends walking in the park.”
Tatiana shoots me one of those are you serious? looks that make me feel like I’m missing something obvious.
“Olivia, he likes you,” she says.
“No, he doesn’t,” I say, arching my eyebrows for emphasis. “And besides, I’m dating Nathaniel— his brother , remember?”
“Exactly. Does Adam know?”
I hesitate before talking, but I say nothing. Words don’t come out of my mouth because I haven’t told him, and I doubt Nathan did.
Tatiana takes my silence as response.
“He doesn’t know yet. And it’s obvious he likes you.” She pauses. “The man comes in here every day and orders the same damn drink—apparently one only you know how to make.”
I frown, confused.
“It’s coffee, milk, and vanilla extract. You could make it in your sleep.”
“Yeah, but you’re always the one making it,” she says pointedly, crossing her arms over her chest.
I blink, genuinely surprised.
“Well—I didn’t notice.”
She gives me a knowing look.
“Exactly. But trust me, Liv, you need to tell him about you and Nathan before this blows up. Believe me, you don’t want this shit taken in the wrong perspective,” she says before turning herself to the coffee machine, grabbing the carafe in her hands.
“What? What other perspective could there be?”
Tatiana lets out a dramatic sigh, as if explaining this is exhausting.
“Liv, they are brothers, ok? You are already fucking one, but the other is clearly trying to fuck you. All I’m saying is, don’t get fucked—and I could even add literally to that,” she says.
I groan.
“He is not trying to fuck me. He is just friendly. Ugh. Is it so rare to have male friends without people making it weird?” I let out in annoyance.
Tatiana gives me a flat look, her voice dead serious now.
“Olivia, promise me you’ll tell him about you and Nathan. Please.”
“Okay, I will tell him tonight,” I say, exasperated.
She grins, triumphant.
“Good! And before you do, could you shoot me a text or something? You know, so I can swing by and console him?” She laughs.
Her ability to cut through the seriousness of the conversation with humour makes me laugh, too.
“You’re unbelievable.”
For the rest of the afternoon, I keep turning the idea over in my mind. Telling Adam about Nathan and me. Shouldn’t this be Nathan’s news to share? If he wanted Adam to know, wouldn’t he have told him by now? I don’t see the complexity, but Nathan isn’t exactly the simple type. I don’t mind being discreet, but I do hate being stuck in the middle.
By the time the clock hits 8:20 p.m., Adam still hasn’t shown up and Tatiana has already left, giving me one last pointed reminder about being honest with him. The place is spotless, everything is in its place, and I’m ready to leave.
I glance at the clock again: 8:30 p.m. No Adam. I feel a wave of relief washing over me, grateful to have dodged that conversation tonight. The thought of it had been spinning in my head all afternoon.
As I lock the door, I sense him behind me before I even turn around.
Shit.
I slowly turn to face him, trying to keep my voice steady.
“You said 8:20 p.m.” I remark, not hiding my annoyance.
“Were you waiting for me?” His grin is playful.
I roll my eyes at him. “Not anymore.”
“Good, there’s no need,” he says, offering me his arm, playing the gentleman. “I’m already here.”
I ignore it and walk past him. I hear him chuckle softly as he catches up to me.
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry I kept you waiting.”
“Never mind. It was just ten minutes,” I say, trying to downplay it. I shift the conversation, hoping to steer it somewhere else. “Did you finish work?”
“I did. I was late because I was on the phone with my brother talking about work. Boring,” he says.
“I get it,” I say, keeping my tone casual. “So, what is it that you do again? Not your profession, but your occupation?” I ask even though I know he works with Nathan.
“Well—that’s a hard and complicated question.”
“Try make it soft and simple. I’ve got time,” I say.
He sighs, but there’s a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“Ok then.” He turns to look at me. “My family owns a chain of hotels, and my team does the interior design of all facilities. Worldwide .” He pauses shortly, and I see a hint of excitement in his eyes. “We’re currently working on a new hotel in London, building it from the ground up.”
“That’s incredible, Adam,” I say, genuinely impressed. He flashes me a proud smile.
“So, your brother is part of that team?”
Adam shakes his head, and a sharp laugh escaping his lips.
“No, Nate’s the head of—well, pretty much everything.” He chuckles. “He was already involved before, but after our father passed, he took full control.” There’s a weight to his words, a heaviness that makes me wonder how deep this goes. “But he is loaded with so much crap,” he continues. “I don’t know how he sleeps at night. He’s nearly forty, and he barely has a life outside of work.”
“That must have been hard for both of you,” I say, my voice softer now, sensing there’s more to this than he’s letting on.
Adam sighs, running a hand through his hair. “In some ways, yes. But I kind of ran away.” He stops talking, his eyes looking forward now. He walks slowly as I walk next to him in silence. “I lived my life. Had my fun. Now I’m back, and I hope Nate knows I’m here for him, you know?”
I nod, my chest tightening as I listen.
“Is that the reason why you say your relationship with him is complicated?”
“Part of it, yes,” he admits, his voice quieter. “God, just talking about him stresses me out.” He shoves his hands into his pockets, his frustration palpable in the air.
The tension between us grows, making it hard for me to breathe. I glance at the ground, unsure of what to say, and I realize that my curiosity about their relationship is going to make my confession even harder to make. When I glance forward, I see a bench, and I need to sit down to gather my thoughts.
“Let’s sit for a minute,” I suggest. The moon tonight is stunning, its golden light casting long shadows on the ground. Adam follows and sits next to me. There’s silence between us, and we both stare at the moon. I can tell his mind is heavy with thoughts. No wonder he remains quiet. Who is Adam without his typical jokes, his chuckles, or even his big smile? His nature of oversharing turns off and he remains there. I can only imagine the roller coaster of thoughts going through his head, and I wish I could help. However, at the same time, I’m also debating with my own thoughts. Bringing up my relationship with Nathaniel now will only sink this boat deeper.
The silence stretches between us, thick and uncomfortable. It gnaws at me.
“I’m sorry for bringing it up. I feel like my curiosity ruined the evening,” I say, glancing at him.
“It's fine. You haven’t ruined anything. Even if it’s not easy, it's nice to let it out.” There’s a weight in his words that makes me think he doesn’t often get the chance to be vulnerable.
I get the sense that he overshares with me because I’m distant from his world, from his family. To him, I’m a set of neutral ears, someone safe to confide in without the complications of history.
“I get it,” I say quietly. “I’ve been in that situation myself. Feel free to let it out whenever you need to.” I pause, choosing my words carefully. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that we all need someone to listen to us, eventually. Most of the time, we’re not looking for advice, but that feeling of being heard. And trust me, not many people know how to listen.”
He looks at me, his gaze vulnerable and raw in a way that catches me off guard.
“I’m lucky to have you around.” His eyes hold onto mine with an intensity that makes my chest tighten.
I open my mouth to respond, but before I can, his voice breaks the stillness again, softer now.
“It was hard.”
I frown.
“What was?”
“Losing my father,” he says, his voice low, as if saying it aloud makes it more real. His eyes don’t leave mine, and the weight of his grief is almost tangible, heavy. “I feel like it’s something I’ll never recover from,” he admits, his voice thick. “He was my best friend. Always there, always supportive. With Nate—it was different. He was hard, pushed him in ways he never pushed me. With me, though, he was softer. Loving.” I can see the way the memories flicker behind his eyes, the ache of them clinging to him like shadows. His gaze locks onto the moon above us.
“Nate looks a lot like him. So much that looking at him makes it harder.” I listen to him attentively, trying to remain neutral, but something about his vulnerability is making me crumble inside. I can see a big part of him hurting, keeping many feelings inside. Even if I think that he should talk to Nathan about all this, let it all out and find comfort in his family, I remain silent.
I suppose that’s something he has already considered, but hasn’t gotten the courage to do. It’s unbelievable how you can be so distant from the people close to you, and yet so close to those who are strangers.
Moments like this open my eyes to how fragile we can be inside. Even the strongest, put-together person is probably fighting internal battles of their own. I don’t know how to fix this for him, but maybe that’s not what he needs. Maybe all he needs is someone to be there, to sit with him in the quiet, to remind him that he’s not alone. He needs a friend, and maybe that’s enough.
“I’m sorry,” he says, “for bringing these shades of blue into our first walk in the park.”
“Hey,” I say, putting my hand over his shoulder. “Don’t apologize. I’m happy to be your ears for the evening!” I say, and he locks eyes with me, a smile forming on his face. I smile back at him, letting him know that he can trust me. His expression lighting with warmth. But before I can fully process what’s happening, I feel his lips pressing against mine. I freeze, caught completely off guard.
His hand moves to the back of my neck, pulling me closer, but my body reacts before my mind does, and I push him away, breaking the kiss.
“Adam…” I struggle to find the words, my mind racing.
His face is a mix of confusion and apology.
“Olivia, I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have. I just got caught up in the moment?—"
“Adam—”
“Seriously, we can pretend this didn’t happen?—”
“Adam—”
“God, I hope this doesn’t change things between us, because?—"
“I’m dating Nathaniel!!!” I blurt out, my eyes squeezing shut as the words leave my mouth.
“What?” His voice comes out surprised. Shocked. I open my eyes to look at him, to see his face turning a nice shade of paper white.
“I’m dating Nathaniel,” I repeat, my voice low and soft.
He pauses, staring at me as if he didn’t hear me right.
“My brother Nathaniel? That Nathaniel?”
I nod, biting my lip.
“Yes, that Nathaniel.”
“You’re not serious.” His disbelief is clear, shaking his head as if trying to reset this moment.
I meet his gaze, offering nothing, but the silent confirmation remains in my eyes.
“You are serious,” he says, and his expression sinks into something far more complicated than disbelief. “But… I don’t understand. How? You only saw him once.”
I don’t need to explain. He reads the answer in my face, realization slowly dawning on him.
“You’ve seen him more than once, haven’t you?” His voice is quieter now, almost to himself. “You’re the reason he’s been cancelling and postponing work trips?” His brow furrows. “Yesterday near the hotel, you were waiting for him, weren’t you?”
“I don’t know about his trips,” I say in a low voice. “But yes, I was waiting for him.”
He groans.
“That explains a lot.” He rubs his face with both hands. “Olivia…” His tone is thick with frustration. He exhales, shoulders slumping. “Why didn’t you mention that before?”
“I didn’t think it was my news to tell,” I say, feeling small.
Adam sighs.
“Nate can’t know I kissed you,” he says finally, his voice heavy. “This could ruin us further. I wish you had mentioned this sooner, before everything became so… this ?”
I raise an eyebrow.
“What difference would that have made?”
“For starters.” He pauses, his hands gesturing between us, referring to our recent kiss. “Olivia, seriously. Don’t tell Nate.”
I hesitate, guilt gnawing at me.
“I don’t feel comfortable hiding this from him, Adam. It was a mistake, yes, but Nathan’s reasonable. He’ll understand.”
Adam runs his fingers through his hair, exasperation clear in his every movement.
“Olivia, please .”
I meet his eyes, my voice soft but firm.
“Can you at least promise you’ll talk to him about this? If I can’t tell him, you should.”
“Fine,” he agrees. “I’ll try. My flight leaves Thursday morning.”
“Promise me, Adam,” I insist, needing something more solid than vague words.
He exhales, resigned.
“I promise. I’ll talk to him. Just—don’t you tell him.”
I sigh.
“Fine.” I stand up from the bench, ready to walk back home, but Adam glances at me one more time.
“Nathaniel, really?" he asks again, his eyebrows raised in disbelief.
“Ugh, how many times are you going to make me repeat that?” I roll my eyes at him.
“So, all these questions earlier—you actually knew more than you let on, huh?”
“Not exactly.” I chuckle nervously, knowing full well how difficult it can be to get Nathan to open up the way Adam does. “Trust me, Nathaniel isn’t exactly an open book.”
“I even compared him to my father. Sorry about that mental image, probably ruined sex for you.” Adam groans, running his hand through his hair.
I laugh, nudging him with my elbow.
“It’s fine, I don’t mind. Could’ve been worse. Now I might even get to call him Daddy. ”
He laughs.
We start walking again, side by side, and the tension from earlier melts away. The conversation shifts back to Adam’s natural humour. By the time we reach my building, we’ve shared enough laughs that it almost feels like the awkwardness of the kiss never happened.
He’s still the same playful, flirty man, and I catch myself thinking how his humour reminds me of Tatiana’s sometimes. I must have a thing for these kinds of people.
“Thanks for the walk, the chat, and for, you know, being my therapist tonight,” he says, his voice softer and warmer now.
“I enjoyed it. I suppose we both needed to get some things off our chests,” I reply, smiling.
“We did. Don’t suppose.” He pulls me into a quick hug. “I’ll come by the coffee shop tomorrow, but I won’t be doing the morning shift.” He laughs.
“It’s fine, you weren’t that good, anyway,” I joke.
“Hey, I’m sensitive,” he says dramatically, pressing his hand against his chest.
I laugh lightly, shaking my head.
“Bonne nuit, monsieur.”
“ Bonne nuit, mademoiselle ,” he smiles, tipping an imaginary hat before turning to walk away.
I enter the building, closing the main door behind me. As I go upstairs, I feel relieved about being honest with Adam.
I take my phone out of my bag to check the time, and my eyes widen with surprise. Ten missed calls from Nathaniel, and this is from... shit , three hours ago, right when I was leaving the shop.
I now remember he said he would call me back in the evening. Oh no, I have a horrible gut feeling.
I open the door to my apartment and get inside, dialling Nathan’s number, but he doesn’t pick up. He must be tired from his day. I sit on the bed and send him a text instead.
To: Nathaniel Martens
Hey there! How was your day?
I’m sorry I didn’t get your call.
I just made it home.
I’ll be expecting my morning call tomorrow.
Good night, handsome.
I read my words and hit send. Even if I would have loved to hear his voice now, I know he will light up my day tomorrow. I get ready to sleep and snooze off when my head touches the bed.
What’s going on? I woke up to my phone ringing non-stop. I fumble for it on my nightstand, groggily rubbing my eyes, but when I glance at the screen, my excitement fades into disappointment. It’s not him . Just my morning alarm. I silence it with more force than necessary. I unlock my phone out of habit, my thumb sliding to the messages app. I see that Nathan read my message hours ago, but didn’t bother to reply. A small knot of worry forms in the pit of my stomach . Is everything okay?
My finger hovers over the call button before I press it, bringing the phone to my ear. The silence on the other end feels heavier with each ring until it finally clicks to voicemail. No answer. I sigh, staring at my screen, trying to reason with myself. He’s busy. You know he’s busy . Nathan’s mornings are always packed.
As I get ready for the day, I catch myself glancing at my phone more than usual. The sound of an incoming message would make my nerves settle, even if it’s for a second. I’ve gotten used to being around him, hearing his voice, exchanging texts. The silence feels louder without him. It’s strange how much I’ve come to expect his presence, as if his absence leaves a tangible gap.
At the shop, I try to focus on work, but it’s harder than I thought. I’m standing behind the counter, Tatiana busy in the back organizing supplies. But every now and then, I catch myself checking my phone again.
The familiar ding of the door opening pulls me back into the moment. The clock is nearing noon, and the steady flow of customers starts picking up, turning the shop alive again.
Tatiana joins me out front, drawn by the growing crowd, and we fall into our usual routine. Normally, I’d find comfort in the familiar rhythm of work, the way it anchors me, but today, everything feels off. I’m going through the motions, offering polite smiles and nods, but my heart’s not in it.
“Hey, sister! Same as always, please.”
I blink, Adam stands there, his bright smile lighting up his face.
I roll my eyes at his Hey, sister comment.
“Oh please, don’t make me regret it.”
“Come on, admit you like it.” He grins, leaning against the counter with that easy confidence he always carries.
Before I can respond, Tatiana spots his order slip and looks up.
“Hello, Adam. You’re late, you know?” she teases, an eyebrow raised. Catching her humour, he laughs lively.
“It’s my day off,” he says.
“Sure, it is. Do you want Olivia to make your order?” Tatiana asks.
“No, no. Give it a try! I trust you.” He winks at her. Talk about moving on.
He steps aside, giving me space to finish up with the last customer. By the time I’m done, he’s already sipping his coffee. His phone buzzes on the counter next to him, the screen lighting up with a call, and he flips it down.
“You’re not going to get that?” I ask, wiping down the counter.
“Oh no, thank you,” he says. “It’s your boyfriend , but he is being too much today for some reason.”
I freeze, my stomach does a little flip.
“Sorry about that,” I manage to say, trying to sound empathetic.
“Don’t.” Adam waves it off, but I can see the annoyance in his eyes. “It’s work. He’s asking me to meet him tomorrow at the site in London.” He shakes his head. “I’m telling you, I’m only leaving on Thursday morning. Not before. Maybe after, but not before.”
“Maybe, the sooner you’re gone, the sooner you’re back,” I imply.
“ Ma chère , Olivia.” He sighs. “I hate to tell you this, but—” He pauses, lowering his voice as if delivering bad news. “He’s scheduled another week in London. I saw it in his schedule this morning.”
What?
Another week? My heart sinks. It’s only been two days, and he’s already decided to stay longer? He didn’t even tell me.
I try to keep my expression neutral, but I can feel the hurt seeping through. Why didn’t he mention this to me? We’ve barely spoken, and now he’s extending his trip without a word. It feels like a small betrayal. I know he’s busy. It’s work. It shouldn’t feel this personal, but it does. I fake a smile to Adam, while I try to hide my disappointment.
“Oh well, it’s work. I’m sure he’s been away for more than two weeks in the past.”
“Yes, I told you he has no life,” he says, his phone still buzzing for the fourth time. “Well ma chérie , I wish you a better day than mine,” he says holding his phone in the air for me to see the screen: Nate . He rolls his eyes and turns around, answering his phone.
“Hey, Nate,” he says, and that’s the only thing I get to listen to.
When Adam leaves through the door, I remain looking at it. My eyes are set straight forward, my mind searching for answers. Why is he being distant? We are something , aren’t we?
“Liv, are you ok?” Tatiana comes near and puts her hand over my shoulder.
“Yes, it’s nothing. I’m going to the back for a minute, ok?”
“Sure,” Tatiana says with a soft tone in her voice.
Back in my tiny office, I pull my cell phone from my pocket, my thumb instinctively swiping the screen. Nothing . No missed calls, no unread messages. The emptiness of it stings more than I’d like to admit. An invisible weight pressing down on my chest.
I resist the urge to call him again. Don’t insist , I remind myself. The last thing I want is to come across as needy, or worse—a distraction in his already busy life. But it’s hard to keep the worry away. The knot in my stomach tightens, a mix of unease and concern. I hate not knowing.
Tatiana and I stay late, locking up the shop together. The rhythmic click of the key turning in the door doesn’t register, my mind too preoccupied.
As usual, we linger by the entrance, chatting about nothing in particular. Tatiana’s words float around me like background noise, muffled and distant. I nod when I think I should and force a smile when I catch her glancing at me. It’s a reflex, almost automatic. Part of me hopes she doesn’t notice how I’m barely present. But Tatiana has always been observant.
“Liv, seriously, it’s everything okay? I get the feeling you’ve lost something” she asks, seeming worried.
Myself, maybe.
“No, no. It’s fine, I’m just tired,” I reply with a faint smile, the lie slipping out so easily it almost feels real. She doesn’t push it, but gives me a knowing look before wishing me a good night. I watch her walk away and disappear in the opposite direction.
It starts to rain as I turn the corner, and without warning, the skies open up further, a now down pour falling over me. Fantastic .
I hunch my shoulders, tugging my coat tighter around me as if it’ll make any difference. My feet move faster, but it’s no use. The cold is making its way through my clothes, freezing me to the bone, but I barely feel it.
A sharp gust of wind cuts through me, I quicken my pace, the sound of raindrops pounding against the concrete, filling the empty streets.
All I want is to get back to my apartment, to curl up in the warmth of my blankets, but even that feels hollow right now.