He pats her on the shoulder. “He’ll come around. You’ll see. Just give him time.”
“Yeah. I’m going to do that.”
“Service is going to start soon. You feel like kicking tonight’s ass?”
People come and people go. At the end of the day, she only has herself. She feels too much, loves too hard. Maybe that’s why people leave her. Maybe she’s too clingy. She demands too much. That’s probably what makes it hard to be around her.
But if she puts on a smile and keeps marching forward, it’ll leave no time to dwell on the past.
“Absolutely,” she answers quietly.
* * *
She gets through service even though it’s the weirdest feeling in the world not to be working by his side.
His absence is jarring, like she’s missing a part of herself. She just doesn’t feel right.
Closing routines have become second nature to Eden. She double checks that everything’s been cleaned within an inch of its life—just in case the health inspector decides to make an impromptu visit—and then she makes note of all the ingredients they’re running low on.
Alexander is usually the one who approves inventory orders, but she has to do it herself since there’s no telling when he’ll come back to work.
Ifhe comes back to work.
Her mind is a haze. The last couple of days have been rough. Unable to sleep, haunted by the harshness of her own words.
Haunted by the look in Alexander’s eyes as he left, empty and cold and lost. Haunted by Sebastian’s offer, using every second since to doubt if she’s even worth such generosity.
Eden wants to talk to someone about it, to make sense of it all, to find her place and her footing. Part of her wants to take the deal. Part of her wants to run as far away in the opposite direction as she can. She doesn’t know what she wants anymore. A lot has changed recently, too much and too quickly. This sudden shift in the winds has her directionless, frantically staring down a storm she can see approaching.
The only person she wants to talk to about the offer won’t return her texts. The only person she wants to talk to at all, she needlessly hurt.
God, I hope he’s okay.
“Eden,” Rina calls from the doors. “We’re headed out. Need a ride?”
“No, thank you. I’ve got a bit of work to finish here. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”
“Don’t work yourself too hard,” Peter says with a light laugh.
“See you tomorrow,” adds Freddie as the trio walk out the door.
And then it’s just her, in the middle of the quiet kitchen without a clue as to what to do next. She pulls out her phone to see if she’s missed any messages, but there are no new notifications waiting for her. With a heavy sigh, she types up one last message. One that’s sincere, one that’s understanding.
Eden: I’m sorry. I know you probably don’t want to talk to me, but can you at least let me know if you’re safe? I promise not to bother you anymore, if that’s what you want.
She sends it off without a second thought and stuffs her phone in her pocket before grabbing her coat and locking up.
The bus ride home is a miserable one. Long, draining, and the seats smell a bit musty. It’s a relief when she arrives at her stop, located just a few blocks from her actual apartment building. She walks the rest of the way, pulling her thin jacket closed over her chest against the cold night. She’s brisk in her journey home, shivering the whole way.
It’s when she sees an Audi parked out front that she takes pause, her heart suddenly in her throat.
Alexander sits on the curb side, long legs extending out before him. He doesn’t look angry. He doesn’t look sad. It’s like the fire within him has been snuffed out.
He just looks numb.
I’m done.
Eden holds her breath and cautiously takes a seat next to him, the cold of the pavement seeping through her work pants and biting at her skin. She doesn’t say anything. Neither does he. Eden contemplates asking how he’s been, but one look and it’s fairly obvious.
