JODIE
My feet ache and my movements are getting slower, but I feel better than I have in weeks. And I know exactly why.
I might have been scared to walk back into this place today and have to force the smile on my face, but it’s been nowhere near as bad as I was expecting.
Matt, my manager, has been incredible, and so have the other girls I’ve worked with today. None of them looked at me in sympathy. None of them pitied me coming back to work after another devastating loss that’s turned my world on its head. They just got on with it and dragged me right along with them, allowing me to lose myself in being normal.
It was nice. Almost enjoyable. And a little mid-afternoon visit from my favourite person in the world to check in on me didn’t go amiss either. Even if she was half asleep after predictably pulling an all-nighter.
Bri kept me company on my break and then eagerly headed off, warning me that she was going for a nap and then we were going out tonight.
As much as I wanted to complain about my feet and that I wanted to stay in, my need to find the old me was too strong to ignore, and I quickly found myself agreeing.
I didn’t tell her about Toby. I don’t know why. It wasn’t intentional. The words just got stuck in my throat. I felt weirdly good about having something for myself for once. I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep the secret for long, especially when we start drinking later, but for now, I’m enjoying the rush.
Saturday might be one of the city’s busiest days of the week, but on our side of town, things begin to slow down not long after the sun sets. Especially at this time of year.
Trisha and Paula, who work part-time shifts, have already left for the day, leaving me and Matt to finish up for the night.
We’ve only got three customers when I push through the door with a box of disposable cups in my hands, ready to restock everything for tomorrow.
There are a couple of young women locked in a heated discussion, and there’s what I assume is a guy sitting on one of the sofas by the window with his hood up, staring at his phone.
Hoping that none of them are expecting to hang around for the long haul, I join Matt behind the counter and open my box.
“Any exciting plans for the night?” he asks as he cleans the coffee machine.
“Going out with Bri,” I say with a smile, more than ready for a standard Saturday night with my girl. “You?”
“Same. But with the guys,” he quickly adds.
Matt’s great. I couldn’t ask for a better manager. And despite his slightly rough exterior, he’s been more than supportive with everything that’s happened over the past few weeks. He’s allowed me to have the time I’ve needed and given me something of a safe haven when I’ve returned. This place is my home away from home, and I know that most of that is because of the way he runs it.
We fall into easy conversation about our plans for the night as the two women bring their mugs over to help us out before leaving.Both of them openly eye-fuck Matt, making me roll my eyes. It’s a pretty common occurrence. He’s hot, and he has the bad boy look down to a fine art. The only difference is that I know that under it all, he’s a good guy.
“One down and then we lock up, yeah?” Matt asks, his eyes shooting over to the guy by the window once his admirers have left.
“Sure thing, boss.” I salute him like an idiot before heading back out to the stock room for more refills.
“Motherfucker,” I hiss when the bottom of a box falls out, depositing hundreds of disposable lids all over the floor.
Dropping to my knees, I set about picking them all up as my mind drifts to the video call last night.
A smile twitches at my lips as I think of Toby’s drunk face as he smiled at me through the phone. He was wasted. Beyond wasted. It’s the reason I’ve told myself over and over not to put too much weight on all the things he said to me. But it doesn’t matter how many times I repeat the words in my head—my heart keeps running away with itself.
When I finally return, the coffee shop is empty and Matt is just twisting the key in the door before turning the sign to closed.
“We’re good to go,” he says with a smile.
Pulling his phone from his pocket, he reads whatever’s on it before barking out a laugh.
“You can go. I’ve got this,” I say, knowing that he’s already done all the important stuff.
“Nah, it’ll only take a few minutes.”
“Honestly, Matt. You’ve already done enough for me. Go and enjoy your night.”
He wants to argue, I can see it in his eyes, but he’s also more than ready to get his weekend started. Unlike me, he doesn’t work Sundays, so he’s free to get as trashed as he wants tonight.