The café smelled like burnt espresso and bleach. Normal. Grounding. I pushed through the door half-expecting him to be there. Waiting. Ready to tell me I was fired. That last night had been a mistake he planned to erase with distance and silence.
The space was empty except for Jenna behind the counter, restocking cups.
Relief and disappointment crashed through me in equal measure.
Jenna glanced up. Her gaze swept over me once—quick, assessing. "You look like hell."
"Thanks." I dropped my bag behind the counter. Tied my apron with fingers that trembled slightly. "Didn't sleep much."
"Everything okay?"
The question landed soft. Careful. Like she already suspected the answer.
"Fine," I lied.
She didn't push. Just handed me a rag and nodded toward the tables. "Wipe those down before the morning rush."
I took it gratefully. Work meant not thinking. Work meant routine. Work meant I could pretend my chest didn't ache every time the door opened and it wasn't him.
Ben showed up twenty minutes later, all sunshine energy and easy smiles. "Morning, Liv. You ready for another day in paradise?"
The nickname jarred me. Too casual. Too friendly. But I forced a smile anyway because Ben was normal. Ben was safe. Ben didn't touch me like I was fragile and then disappear before dawn.
"Ready as I'll ever be."
He laughed, oblivious, and launched into some story about his roommate setting off the smoke alarm making toast. I half-listened. Nodded in the right places. Let his voice fill the space where my thoughts kept circling back to Rhys. To the way he'd looked at me afterward. Gutted. Like he'd done something unforgivable. To the way he'd left without saying goodbye.
The register beeped. A customer ordered. I made change on autopilot.
Ben nudged my shoulder. "You sure you're okay? You seem distant."
"Just tired."
"Late night?"
My throat tightened. "Something like that."
He accepted it. Moved on. Started organizing the pastry case with the same easy energy he brought to everything.
I envied that. The lightness. The way he moved through the world without carrying weight he couldn't name.
The morning crawled forward. Players filtered through. Coaches grabbed coffee. Staff picked up breakfast sandwiches. The noise built and ebbed like a tide.
Rhys never appeared.
Every time the door opened, my pulse spiked. Every footstep in the hallway made my breath catch. But he stayed away. Invisible. Absent.
Good.
That was what I told myself, anyway.
If he wants me gone, he can fire me. I'm not quitting.
The thought settled in my chest. Hardened into something stubborn. Something I could hold onto when everything else felt unstable.
I needed this job. Needed the paycheck. Needed the routine that kept me from spiraling back into the fear Marsha's warning had planted.
Rhys didn't get to decide everything. Didn't get to sleep with me and then dictate my life from a distance.
