She bites back a smile, causing her nostrils to flare every so slightly. “A doctor.”
“Damn, that’s impressive all on its own. And rude of me to assume otherwise.”
She looks up at me with her head slightly tilted to the side. “It’s fine. Although I wouldn’t call what happened today impressive.”
“Whatever it was, you made it through, didn’t you?”
She huffs out a laugh at that. “Physically, yes. Emotionally? That’s to be decided.”
I study her for a moment. The slight wobble of her lower lip. Her inability to make eye contact. She’s fighting a war inside her head right now, desperate to hold back.
“Something happened today … and … I don’t know where to go from here.” She releases a heavy sigh. “I’ve made a mess of my life.”
Her answers are all vague, and I’m sure that’s intentional. Hell, I’m just a stranger off the street, but her shoulders are starting to loosen and some of that tension is starting to fall. If I can get her to keep pushing out these comments, maybe I can get the full story.
“You know,” I say, gesturing with a nod of my head to the sugar packets by her elbow. She stands back, and I reach over, grabbing two and flicking them in between my fingers before emptying them into my cup. “I kind of like messes.”
Her gloved hands, which are wrapped around her cup, pause as she lifts it to her mouth. She pulls back, grinning at my comment. “No one likes a mess.”
“Not true. I do. Some might even say I love them.”
She raises a hand to her mouth, failing at hiding her laugh. “Quit it. You’re lying to make me feel better.”
I let my own smile show. “I really do. The way I see it, a mess can be a good thing. The moment itself sucks, yeah, but it’s an opportunity to find a new way. There’s no reason to be hard on yourself, all you ne—”
“Here’s your birthday cake.”
The barista to my right slides a pink box over the counter, interrupting my words, and the bubble surrounding us pops.
“It’s your birthday?”
“No, my little sister’s. She insisted on a cake from this place and I’m the one that got suckered into driving all the way into the city to pick it up.”
Her smile softens a little at that, and she stares at the cake in front of us. “That’s very sweet of you.”
I pull the box from the counter and rest it in my palm, carefully balancing its weight against my chest. Reaching for my coffee with my other hand, I step away from the counter to let the next guest in line grab their drink. I usher to a small two-seater table by the window. The snow has picked up since we’ve been inside. The wind swirls the white flakes around and throws them against the window before they settle. It looks miserable outside, and I find myself not wanting to leave the comfort of this small shop. Or her. “Want to sit for a minute?”
She looks at the window seat, and then back to me as her mouth pops open. She gets the first sound out, which sounds an awful lot like a yes, and my heart leaps.
And then her phone rings. She fishes around in her pocket and her expression falls when she sees the name scrolling across the screen. She silences it, still staring at the device for a moment afterward before tucking it back into her pocket.
“I’m so sorry,” she says, turning to look at the guests on each side of us. A gloved hand comes to cover her forehead, and I can see the grimace on her face. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t be here. I … I have to go.”
She pushes past me, and I follow her the best I can without letting my sister's cake smash to the ground. “Wait, I’m sorry if I—”
She pushes through the heavy glass door, letting it fall back. A gust of wind helps slam it against me, and an exaggerated oof rushes from my lungs. With the cake safely tucked against me like a football, I shove my shoulder into the door, opening it with my side. I look down both ends of the sidewalk, squinting against the sleet as I scan for her.
A blur of blue catches my eye and I see her across the street. Her arm is in the air with her hand waving for a cab. I debate running to her, apologizing if I pushed hertoo far, begging her to stay so I can at least find out her name. Traffic speeds past and cars move in each direction in between us.
My heart sinks low in my chest as a cab stops. She opens the door, and by some sort of miracle, she pauses and raises her head to stare over the roof at me.
We lock eyes for a beat, and then two. I want to call out to her, to race across the street, traffic be damned, and stop her from leaving.
But her body disappears as she crawls into the cab, and I stand frozen as the car and my mystery woman drive into the night.
Chapter One - Three Months Later
Holly
