Luke knows it's a lie, but thankfully he doesn't push it.
We finish eating, Luke crumples up the sandwich wrapper and shoots it into the trash can across the room. He misses, Ethan retrieves it without comment and throws it away properly.
"I need to head out," Luke says. "Got a thing at two."
"What thing?"
"A thing." He grins. "Don't worry about it."
He leaves but Ethan stays.
I should ask him why, and I should tell him he doesn't need to keep me company. He should do anything except stand here hyperaware of how close he is and how empty the shop suddenly feels.
"I should go too," Ethan says.
"Okay."
He doesn't move.
Neither do I.
We stand there in the space between the counter and the door. The couple by the window leaves. The old man is absorbed in his paper. We're essentially alone.
"Callie." My name sounds different in his mouth. Careful and weighted.
"Yeah?"
"About what I said in the text."
My heart kicks up. "What about it?"
He's quiet for a long moment, his jaw works like he's trying to find words.
"Nothing," he finally says. "Never mind."
"Ethan."
"I need to go."
This time he does move. He heads for the door without looking back. I watch him leave and feel something crack open in my chest.
The afternoon drags. I make more donuts, serve more customers, smile, chat and pretend everything is normal while all I can do is think about Ethan and what he was going to say about the text.
By four, I'm exhausted. Not from the work, but from the effort of holding myself together.
I'm wiping down tables when my phone buzzes.
Luke: How'd things go after I left?
Me: Fine. Why?
Luke: No reason, Ethan seemed weird.
Me: Weird how?
Luke: I don't know. Quiet, even for him.
I don't respond. I don't know what to say that won't sound suspicious.
