As the afternoon wore on, the café grew quieter, the lull in business offering a rare moment of peace. I found myself drawn to the small window near the back, watching as the rain continued its steady descent.
It was during these quiet moments that my thoughts drifted back to Mark, to the unresolved tension between us. I couldn’t shake the feeling that his apology was a prelude to something larger, a revelation that might change everything.
When my shift finally ended, I gathered my things and stepped back outside, the rain having lightened to a gentle drizzle. The walk home was slow, each step measured as I tried to steel myself for the conversation that awaited.
Arriving back at the house, I found it still empty, the silence more pronounced now that I was alone. I set my things down and made my way to the kitchen, the familiar routine of making tea offering a small comfort.
As I waited for the water to boil, my phone buzzed on the counter. A message from Mark: “Can we talk tonight?”
The words sent a shiver down my spine, a mix of anticipation and dread settling in my stomach. I typed a quick response, agreeing to meet him later, my fingers shaking slightly as I hit send.
There was no escaping it now. Whatever truth Mark had been holding onto, it was time to face it.
Read more on the next page ⬇️⬇️⬇️
