Debra watched Lucille walk off in the opposite direction as a gratitude settled in her chest. Not every ‘almost’ had to hurt.
Without quite deciding to, her feet carried her towards familiar streets. Towards a particular tailoring shop she hadn’t meant to visit but couldn’t seem to avoid.
Debra slipped her hands into her coat pockets and walked on, hoping that something or someone could still be waiting for her there.
Debra stoppedoutside Billie’s shop, mindful of the reception she may well receive. Still, the lights were on, so she was hopeful of catching Billie before she locked up for the evening and went about her business. Business that wasn’t Debra’s, no matter what she still felt for her.
Get inside and get it over and done with!
The familiar chime of the bell hit harder than she expected it to. The shop appeared the same as it always had, and yet, something felt subtly off. It felt less electric in here.
Nina looked up from behind the counter.
For a split second, Debra recalled it again—that unwelcome memory of Nina, breathless on Billie’s desk, while Billie thrust between her legs. The image rose, visceral and unwanted, and Debra had to steady herself before it showed on her face.
She reminded herself,firmly, that it wasn’t her business.
“Ms Allen,” Nina said, professional as ever. If there was any recognition in her eyes, she didn’t allow it to linger. “Can I help you?”
“Yes,” Debra said with a smile. “I was hoping to see Billie.”
“She’s not in. If she doesn’t have any appointments, she’s usually gone by now.”
Debra glanced around the shop. The clock on the wall read just past four. This wasn’t Billie’s usual routine. “She used to work later than this.”
“She doesn’t anymore. If she’s free by midday, she leaves at one.”
Those words felt strange as they landed between them.
“Right. That’s…new.”
Nina straightened a stack of papers on the counter. “Yes. Things have changed.”
“I see.” Debra felt a small, unexpected pang at that. She’d known Billie had pulled back—she’d felt itandlived it—but hearing it confirmed like this made it real in a way she hadn’t quite prepared for. “If I wanted to see her, would I need to book a full service?”
She wasn’t entirely sure why she’d asked that. Perhaps she was probing for reassurance, or confirmation…or simply trying to understand what still existed in this space that she no longer belonged to.
“Billie doesn’t offer The Full Service anymore.”
Debra’s breath caught. “She doesn’t?”
“Not for some time now.”
There was something final in the way she said that. It wasn’t defensive or possessive. It was just…factual.
Debra nodded slowly, absorbing that piece of information as it settled deep inside of her. Relief brushed aside the fear she still held when it came to seeking Billie out. “Right. Thank you.”
Nina tilted her head. “If you’d like to leave a message, I can pass it on.”
Debra considered writing her name on a card or asking Nina when Billie would next be in, but instead, she shook her head. “No, that’s okay. But thank you.”
She turned for the door, pausing as her fingers closed around the handle. She allowed herself a moment to imagineBillie somewhere else. Out in the daylight, unburdened by long hours and locked doors, choosing her own time instead of being claimed by it.
If nothing else, that in itself felt like progress.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Billie had reached that pleasant,switched-off stage of the evening where the television was doing most of the thinking for her. She was stretched out on the couch in joggers and a loose tank top, one sock abandoned beneath the coffee table, while a bowl of salty popcorn was balanced precariously on her stomach. It was the third episode in a row, maybe even the fourth, but she’d stopped counting. The show she was watching was predictable in a way that felt comforting. People said what they meant, and conflicts were resolved neatly…and nobody vanished without explanation. Maybe that was why she enjoyed it. No drama and no expectation.
