Page 137 of Sparks Fly

The shop felt too loud the next morning.

Not the normal loud. The good loud. Grinders whining against steel, compressors kicking on in short bursts, the steady clang of metal landing where it belonged.

That kind of noise usually settled me. It was familiar. Predictable. A soundtrack that gave the day structure.

This was different.

Every sound had edges. The welder hissed too sharply, like someone had turned the volume up too high. Sparks flashed across the concrete, each one hitting my eyes like a camera flash. Even the smell of hot metal felt harsher in my lungs.

I had been awake since four-thirty. Not productive awake. No coffee, no scrolling through my phone, no real attempt to fall back asleep. Just lying on my back, staring at the ceiling like it might give me an answer if I waited long enough.

It didn’t.

Eventually, I got up, showered, pulled on the same jeans and boots I always wore, and drove to the shop anyway.

Because that was what I did.

Benji clocked me before I made it ten feet inside.

He stood at the workbench with a tape measure hooked over a length of railing, a pencil tucked behind his ear, and his hair shoved beneath the same gray beanie he wore whenever he needed to concentrate.

He didn’t say anything at first.

He just watched me set my coffee down harder than necessary, then peel off my jacket like it had personally offended me.

After a moment he lifted his chin toward me. “Okay,” he said.

I looked up from the workbench where I had been pretending to reorganize a pile of tools. “Okay, what?”

Benji pointed the end of the tape measure at me. “You’re doing that thing.”

“What thing?”

“The one where you act normal when you’re clearly not.”

“I’m fine,” I said automatically.

He made a face like he had bitten into something sour. “Sawyer.”

I exhaled slowly through my nose. “I’m fine.”

He didn’t argue. Benji was good at waiting.

“What do you want me to say?” I asked.

“Whatever you’ve been chewing on since you walked in.”

I tried to swallow it down, but it wouldn’t go.

“We ran into her best friend and fiancé last night,” I finally said. “At the record store. She pulled away from me, and introduced me as a friend.”

Benji’s expression shifted. Not surprised. Just heavy. “Lilly?”

I nodded.

He blew out a breath and leaned against the workbench. “Fuck.”

“Yeah.” I looked away. “Fuck.”