The following day arrived with a grey, overcast sky that seemed to mirror the heaviness in my heart. I awoke to the sound of rain tapping against the window, a rhythmic reminder of the unresolved tension between Mark and me.
He had already left the room, leaving behind the faint scent of his cologne and a half-empty cup of coffee on the nightstand. I sat up slowly, feeling the weight of the previous night pressing down on my shoulders.
It was a Saturday, which meant the café where I worked part-time would be busier than usual. I had always found solace in the routine of making coffee, the repetitive motions offering a temporary escape from the complexities of my life.
As I dressed for work, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My reflection seemed unfamiliar, as if I were looking at someone else’s life through a window. The realization stung, a sharp reminder of the choices I had made, or rather, the choices that had been made for me.
Downstairs, the house was quiet. My dad was already out, likely running errands or meeting with friends. In his absence, the walls seemed to close in, the silence almost suffocating.
Stepping outside, the cold, damp air hit my face, waking me up more than the coffee ever could. I pulled my coat tighter around me and began the short walk to the café, my thoughts still tangled in the previous night’s apology.
At the café, the familiar sounds of the espresso machine and the chatter of customers provided a brief respite from my thoughts. I slipped into my role effortlessly, smiling and exchanging pleasantries with the regulars, all the while my mind replaying Mark’s words.
“I’m sorry… I should have told you sooner.”
What had he meant by that? What truth had he held back, and why did it matter now?
As the morning rush subsided, I found a moment to catch my breath. I leaned against the counter, watching the rain continue to fall outside, blurring the world beyond the café windows.
My coworker, Lisa, approached with a concerned look. “You okay? You seem a bit out of it today.”
I forced a smile, not wanting to delve into the complexities of my personal life here. “Just tired,” I replied, hoping to deflect any further questions.
Lisa nodded, accepting my answer without pressing further. I appreciated her respect for my privacy, even if it meant continuing to carry the weight of my doubts alone.
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