She’s seated near the window with three other women who clutch at each other while rolling with laughter.
Despite the humor, Snow leans back in her chair with a cup in hand, simply watching with a sweet smile on her beautiful face.
She looks much more at peace here than she did at work yesterday.
I didn’t know she ate here, although it is close to the hospital.
Glancing away, I try to focus on the numerous emails building in my inbox but the laughter continues, and knowing Snow is there somehow distracts me.
She brought me dinner last night.
A simple gesture, really. Something not uncommon when there are decent people on staff who notice those things.
But she also stayed and spoke to me which soothed me more than I realized.
Rushing back to work and leaving her there ignited a strange coldness in my chest, like I left a piece of myself behind to enjoy what remained of my dinner and the rest of her stories.
Maybe Thea’s right.
Maybe I am too lonely.
When work is busy, there’s no time to think about personal matters.
My hours are long and unpredictable, and the only regular person in my life is my neighbor, Auriela, who was kind enough to text me regular updates throughout the night.
I really should go home.
Something keeps me in my seat.
Unable to stop myself, I keep sneaking glances through the cake display case that separates my table at the back and Snow’s at the window.
She engages in animated conversation, using her hands to tell the story, and despite being unable to hear anything she’s saying, I’m enthralled by her display.
Some of her friends laugh.
A blonde one constantly interrupts and Snow’s hands stall in the air each time.
A redhead with short, tightly kept curls keeps patting Snow’s shoulder as if she’s comforting her.
I watch until an unsettling feeling creeps through me, as if I’m spying on her, and I return to my emails until the next bubble of laughter catches my attention.
One by one, Snow’s friends depart.
They kiss each other on the cheek and I catch the promises of plans and dinner soon, then they each vanish out into the rapidly darkening world outside.
A rainstorm alert flashes up on my phone while I clear out all the marketing emails that dodge my junk folder.
By the time I’m finished, Snow’s alone at her table and rain spots the window.
Those few remaining people within the cafe take the rain as their cue to leave before the weather gets worse, until Snow and I are the only ones who remain.
She doesn’t seem to know I’m here, judging by how she stares at her phone, lost in her own world.
A frown deepens her brow every so often and she occasionally rubs at her neck.
Beyond the music in the cafe and the soft hums and hisses falling from the coffee machine, the place is quiet and warm, an allure that keeps me in my seat even though I know I should get home.
Until Snow moves.
