I locked the phone and set it down. Some instincts didn’t let you rest. I rolled onto my side, staring at the wall and knowing I wasn’t done watching out for her.
Violet’s was already busy when I pulled in, late-morning light filling the café in a way that made everything feel warmer than it was. The bell over the door chimed as I stepped inside.
“Hey,” Violet called from behind the counter, already pouring coffee. “You look like you need that.”
“I do,” I said, taking the mug she slid across without asking. “Thanks.”
Mom sat in her usual corner, laptop open, legal pad beside it, pencil tucked into her hair. Dahlia Barrett wrote everywhere, but Violet’s was her favorite when she needed to be around people without being interrupted by them.
She glanced up and smiled. “Morning, Levi.”
“Morning.”
I took a seat at the table by the counter, letting the normalcy of the place settle in. Coffee grinding. Dishes clinking. Violet and her baristas moving with practiced ease.
That was when the door opened again, and Becca stepped inside, rain jacket zipped halfway, hair pulled back but already slipping loose around her face. My attention sharpened instantly. My pulse kicked up like it had been waiting for her.
She didn’t come to the counter right away. Instead, she paused near the door as Matt came in behind her with his expression all business, softened by big brother. They spoke quietly for a moment, heads bent together.
Becca nodded at whatever Matt said, her mouth curving into a small, reassuring smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. He squeezed her shoulder once before heading toward the counter to grab coffee.
She caught sight of me then, and her smile changed; it was warmer and reached her eyes, but there was something underneath it now, something guarded. She crossed the room and stopped beside me.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey,” I replied. “You okay?”
She hesitated just long enough that I noticed.
“Yeah,” she said. “Just tired.” Same answer as always. I wasn’t sure I believed it any more than she did.
I wanted to reach out and brush that loose strand of hair behind her ear, tell her she didn’t have to pretend with me. Instead, I kept my hands on my mug, knuckles white around the ceramic.
“I’m heading to work,” she added, already backing away. “Just wanted caffeine first. No offense to the Stop & Go, but it’s not going to cut it today. I need the good stuff.”
Matt glanced over from the counter, gave me a look I couldn’t quite read before turning back to Violet.
Becca glanced at the clock on the wall and winced. “Okay. I really do have to go. Elizabeth will revoke my burrito privileges if I’m late.”
“Cruel and unusual punishment,” I said. “Those things are half the reason people come in.”
She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I know. Tragic.”
“So,” I said, leaning back slightly, giving her space. “When do I see you again?”
She hesitated—just a beat too long—then shrugged. “I’m working all day. But, maybe later? If you’re around?”
“I’m off,” I said. “Miraculously.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Really?”
“Don’t sound so surprised,” I said. “I occasionally rest.”
She laughed, softer this time. “Okay. Maybe we’ll figure something out.”
“Figure something out,” I repeated. “Very specific. I like a plan with structure.”
“Text me?”
