I double over, clutching my stomach as laughter shakes me.
Tears stream down my face, blurring Helen’s alarmed expression, but there’s no humor behind them.It’s the sound of stress fracturing.Pure exhaustion finding a bizarre, inappropriate outlet.
None of this is funny.
Yet I can’t stop.
Every attempt to take a breath feeds the next wave of wild, unhinged laughter.I am unraveling right in front of her.Helen pulls her hand back, concern deepening into alarm.But quickly, that alarm melts into profound recognition.
She steps closer, placing a firm hand on my shaking back.“Mira.Look at me,” she coaxes, rubbing gentle circles between my shoulder blades.
I lift my tear-blurred gaze to her face.
Her eyes are wide, dark pools of worry.No judgment.Only serious concern.“You gotta slow down,cariña.You’re completely done in,” she states quietly.Her expression tightens with a gentle resolve, cutting through my gasping laughter with authority.“This is too much stress.You’re finished for today, Ames.You need to go home and get some serious rest.”
Her firm kindness almost makes me break down again.I take a deep, shuddering breath, trying to pull the fragmented pieces of myself back together.I wipe my cheeks with the sleeve of my sweater.
“You’re right,” I concede, the admission catching on a tremor in my throat.“I’m a mess.Thanks, Helen.”A weak, watery smile flickers on my lips.“I definitely need to call it a night.”
Relief softens Helen’s expression.“Okay, good.Come on then,vámonos.Let’s get you out of here.”She reaches for my arm to guide me toward the door.
Panic jolts through me.My mind scrambles, latching onto the most first excuse it finds.
“Wait, shoot,” I say, pulling back.“I almost forgot the produce order.”
Helen stops, frowning.“The produce order?Can’t it wait until morning?”
“No.If I don’t submit it now, we won’t have oranges or fresh berries for Tuesday,” I insist, trying to sound responsible.I straighten the stray sugar packets on the counter to avoid her eyes.
Helen studies me, weighing the urgency of fruits against my depleted state.
Silence stretches before she finally asks, skeptical, “Are you sure you’re up for it right now?You look like you could fall over.”
“I’m okay,” I lie, turning to face her, attempting a look of determination.“Honestly.I just need to sit quietly and focus.You head home.Get some rest.It’s been a long day for you too.I’ll lock up right after I hit send on that order.Promise.”
Helen sighs, a long sound that speaks volumes about her doubt.But her gaze lingers on my face and I can tell she sees it.The stubborn set of my jaw.The fact that I won’t be budged.
“Okay, Ames,” she concedes, her voice heavy with reluctance.“Half an hour max.That’s it.Okay?”
She steps forward, closing the distance between us, and wraps me in a sudden, tight hug.Her embrace is fierce.
“Cuídate, mija,” she whispers into my hair.“Take care and you call me if you need me,entiendes?I don’t care what time.”She holds on for another second, a solid, grounding presence, before pulling back.She gives my shoulder a final, firm squeeze, her dark eyes still swimming with worry.“Come lock this door behind me.”
I nod, following her to the glass door.“Good night, Helen.”
“Buenas noches,” she replies with one last searching look before leaving.
I slide the deadbolt and give her a quick wave.
Seconds later, I lean against the counter, adrenaline draining from me, leaving behind an exhaustion that settles deep in my bones.
Home.
The word comes to mind.The irony tasting bitter.
This café… my sanctuary…
With a sigh heavy enough to sink me, I push off the counter and trudge down the dimly lit hallway.Inside my office, I flick on the desk lamp, bathing the space in the same warm, orange glow as last night.
