Page 12 of Apparently, I’m Torture

Lilly’s voice shakily streamed through the doorframe, and Tristan stared into the backroom.

“Jump up, make a sound, hey, stomp your boots, turn around…”

I straightened, ran a hand along my shorn and stubbled black hair, and stepped toward the room, trying to see in. “Is she…?”

Tristan shook his head, his hand still on me, keeping me in place. “She’s fine.”

A grumbled, “I’ll go,” rolled out from behind me, and a short, stout, balding man with grey hair and bushy brows waddled by us. Lilly’s uncle, Henry, rounded the counter in a brown cardigan and black apron, keeping his eyes on the backroom and his niece.

Tristan let out a breath. “Two more months and then you’re both leaving. Think you can hold out ‘til then?”

I swallowed, my chest caving in on itself. Could I?

“For you? I’ll try.”

His grip on my shoulder tightened, and I gave him a smile I didn’t feel. Tristan was my boss and my closest friend. He proved over and over that he had my back, no matter what I did, regardless of the decisions I made. He meant a lot to me. The last thing I was going to do was let him down.

I’d keep working here at Tristy’s, and I’d keep subjecting myself to Lilly.

Once our time here was up, Lilly and I would both leave this place. We’d both take on careers as teachers. I could hold out until then. I had to.

Chapter 5

Shawn

Thursday Afternoon

Two Months Until Graduation

Tristy’s Coffee Shop

The coffee machine hissed and Tristan yanked his hand back. Too late.

I sucked a breath between my teeth and winced at the shiny new burn. “That’s gonna need some ice on it. It looks bad.”

This was more proof of how little the poor guy had been sleeping. He never got burned.

Uncle Henry let out a snort and shoved his scarred fingers in my face, his Greek accent turning thickly in my ear. “Is nothing, see? Is part of job.”

Tristan shrugged, yanking his hand out of my view. “Amo’s right. It’s nothing.”

I shook my head at him and went to the backroom. “Nikki would flip if she saw you working through pain like that.”

Uncle Henry’s laugh pelted my back as Tristan called out, “She knew what she was getting into when she married me.”

I picked up the first aid kit, brought it back to the counter, and held out my hand. He was fighting a grin, I could see it under all that carefully structured peppering of stubble he sported, but he put his hand in mine and let me treat his burn.

Lilly’s uncle silently went to work behind the coffee machine, shooting me some amused side-eye while working faster than any of us ever could.

Tristy’s Coffee Shop was only getting more and more popular by the day, and to meet demand, Tristan extended our opening hours.

Who knew it’d run him into the ground?

With Nikki pregnant, and his art finally getting placed in galleries, he was trying to do too much with too little rest behind him.

Even now, his smile was tired. “It’s probably a sign I should give painting a break anyway. Nikki wants to move into her old place soon and that’s enough to deal with.”

I let go of his hand and tried to lighten the mood. “You’ve been in that studio in the back of the shop for years. It’s probably time for a change.”