“What were you doing, anyway?”I asked, curiosity slipping through.
She blinked, clearly taken aback by my question.“Oh, well, there's this string of Christmas lights that needed fixing, but I couldn't quite reach it.”She glanced up at the offending decorations and then back at me.“Would you mind taking a look?”
I arched a brow, unsure why she’d ask me of all people.The request felt odd—domestic tasks weren't exactly in my wheelhouse.
Her cheeks flushed a light pink.“No, never mind.How rude of me.I'm sorry.”
The apology struck a chord.It wasn’t like I had anything better to do, and the sincerity in her eyes nudged at some long-dormant sense of decency within me.“I can take a look,” I said, surprising myself more than her.
Claire's eyes lit up with relief and gratitude.She pointed to the far corner of the room where the ladder stood beneath a tangle of half-lit lights."Over there," she said, voice soft but steady.
I crossed the room, feeling her eyes on me as I reached for the ladder.The rungs felt solid under my grip—a good sign given my luck lately.I climbed up carefully, scanning the length of the lights for any obvious issues.
“You don’t have to do this,” Claire murmured from below.
“I know,” I replied without looking down.
At the top of the ladder, I spotted the problem—a loose connection where two strands met.Years of dealing with finicky equipment in far more dire circumstances had taught me patience and precision.I jiggled the connection gently until it clicked into place.
The lights flickered once before glowing steadily.
“Got it,” I called down, descending the ladder.
Claire’s face brightened as she looked up at the now fully lit string of lights.“Thank you!It’s been driving me crazy for days.”
I shrugged as I stepped off the ladder, brushing off imaginary dust from my hands.“No big deal.”
For a moment, we stood there in comfortable silence, admiring our small victory against faulty holiday decorations.
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other before speaking again.“Can I offer you some breakfast?As a thank you?”
I hesitated briefly but nodded.“Sure.”
She smiled warmly and gestured toward an empty seat at a nearby table.
As I sat down and took in the homely spread before me, it struck me how different this moment was from those relentless memories that haunted my nights—how it felt oddly...nice.
I sat down at the table, the smell of breakfast wrapping around me like a warm blanket.The aroma of sizzling bacon, freshly scrambled eggs, and toasted bread filled the air, mingling with the faint scent of coffee.
Claire placed a plate in front of me, piled high with food.The bacon looked crispy, with just the right amount of charred edges.The eggs were fluffy and golden, with flecks of green that hinted at some herbs.I took a forkful and brought it to my mouth.
The eggs were light and airy, seasoned perfectly with a hint of chives that added a subtle freshness.Each bite melted on my tongue, the warmth spreading through me like an antidote to the coldness that had settled in my bones.
I reached for a slice of toast, its surface glistening with butter that seeped into the crispy edges.I bit into it, savoring the crunch and the rich, creamy taste that followed.The bread was hearty and dense, with just enough chewiness to make each bite satisfying.
The bacon was next.I picked up a piece and took a bite.It crunched loudly between my teeth, releasing a burst of smoky flavor that mingled with its salty goodness.It was the kind of bacon that made you want to close your eyes and savor every second.
Claire poured me a cup of coffee, its dark liquid steaming as it filled the mug.I took a sip, letting the bitter warmth spread through me.It was strong but smooth, cutting through the remnants of sleep that still clung to my mind.
“You’re quite handy,” Claire remarked."Cream?Sugar?"
“Just used to fixing things,” I replied between bites."And no, thank you."
Claire opened her mouth, a question poised on her lips, but something seemed to stop her.Her eyes flickered to the side, as if catching a distant sound or movement that I couldn't perceive.
She cocked her head.“Enjoy your breakfast,” she said finally, her voice softer than before.
I watched as she walked over to the ladder, her steps purposeful yet hesitant.She bent down and began to collect it, fumbling slightly with the unwieldy object.I expected her to bombard me with questions—about anything from my favorite color to deeper things—but she didn't.Instead, she left me alone with my thoughts.
