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This was what life looked like when money wasn’t sothing you had to worry about every day, when you didn’t do ntal math before buying groceries or check your bank account before saying yes to anything.
And it had nothing to do with .
The contrast felt heavier in the quiet, pressing in around the edges in a way I didn’t have the energy to fight right now.
I shifted slightly on the bed, pulling the blanket over myself more out of habit than necessity, my eyes growing heavier as the exhaustion I’d been ignoring all day finally settled in. My limbs felt distant, my thoughts slowed, and everything beca soft around the edges as it always did right before sleep began to take hold.
This could still work, I just had to keep it simple, follow the rules, stay out of his way and don’t get involved.
Don’t make this harder than it needed to be.
Even if I had this strange desire to see his steely exterior to crack and see just who this guy was beneath it.
I exhaled softly, allowing my eyes to close halfway as I embraced that thought, repeating it quietly enough that it started to feel like sothing I could actually believe.
Nothing that needed to matter beyond re survival.
The quiet enveloped again, softer now, almost distant as sleep began to tug gently at my thoughts, a familiar inevitability whenever I finally stopped resisting.
And just before I drifted off completely another mory surfaced.
A mory of the first ti I t Damien.
It wasn’t exactly a great encounter as you’ve already guessed.
I frowned slightly, opening my eyes enough to glance across the room again, watching the steady outline of his back as he remained perfectly still and unbothered. Existing in that way of his that made the rest of the room seem like background noise.
Did he even recognize ?
The question lingered, more curious than anything else, swirling quietly in the dimming haze between wakefulness and sleep.
Because I knew I recognized him. Not to brag but I really didn’t have an unforgettable face, and he’s always been lingering around for almost two years, do there should be a fair chance he knew just who I was.
From a few scattered monts that had blurred together over ti...small encounters that never lasted long enough to matter but sohow stuck, as certain things do when your brain decides they’re worth holding onto without consulting you first.
And then—
It all ca rushing back, clearer this ti, you see...it was my first week at Joy’s Café.
My first real shift where everything mattered, ssing up wouldn’t just be inconvenient, it would have consequences. I needed to get it right because I needed the job, and the job needed to not be a disaster.
And everything had gone wrong.
I was moving too fast and not fast enough at the sa ti, trying to keep up with orders that felt like they were coming in too quickly to handle, between juggling trays, nas, drinks while custors talked over each other and machines hissed in the background.
The noise itself was overwhelming, a wall of sound I hadn’t yet learned to filter like the others seed to manage effortlessly.
It was chaos, ontrolled chaos for everyone else. But just chaos for .
"Table four needs two lattes and a cappuccino!" soone called from behind , already onto the next task before I could even process their words.
"I’ve got it!" I replied too quickly, even though I really didn’t have it under control. I’d learned early that confidence was sothing you perford before feeling it, and no one had the ti or patience to wait for you to catch up.
I rember grabbing the tray too quickly, stacking the cups securely but not securely enough, balancing everything with a kind of forced confidence I hadn’t quite earned yet.
My hands were steadier than my nerves. The floor was slightly damp near the counter...an inconvenient detail I filed away too late and before I realized it, my foot had slipped right onto that spot.
And I swear to you, that the world went in slow motion as the tray tilted.
And everything went with it, in that horrifying mont where you see what’s about to happen, but can’t do a thing to stop it.
Then ca the impact, the sound of ceramic breaking on the floor, sharp and definitive.
A collective intake of breath from soone nearby and the unmistakable splash of warm coffee landing where it absolutely shouldn’t have.
For a mont, everything went quiet, not completely quiet, the café never fell silent...but enough for that mont to hold weight, for my cheeks to flush, for the floor to beco the most interesting thing in the room.
I scrambled up quickly, my hands trembling slightly as I tried to regain my footing, my heart racing in a way that made coherent thought difficult. The apology spilled out before I was even fully standing.
"I’m s–so sorry," I blurted, words tumbling out faster than I could control. "I didn’t an to...I didn’t see—I’m really sorry—!"
And then I looked up and I saw him standing there completely still, as he always was, like motion was sothing reserved for others.
Looking down at with an expression that made it seem like I was so kind of gross bug he’d accidentally stepped on, unsure of what to do next.
The coffee had splattered on the edge of his shirt, leaving a dark stain against the crisp fabric, but that didn’t seem to bother him. He didn’t even glance at it. His gaze remained fixed on , which sohow felt worse.
It was as if I had beco the center of his ire, cold and cutting, completely unimpressed...like the situation was beneath him, including my frantic apology, which he received without a single word.
I was just... in the way.
Sothing disposable that had briefly disrupted him, even then, before today, before this room, before all these rules and silence, before this divided space...I had known, with a certainty that didn’t rely on evidence or reason.
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