70. Damn

The cafe bells jingled as she followed Tyler through the door.

A slight feeling of nostalgia hit, and she swallowed slowly, praying that perhaps he didn’t come to work today.

But there he was, on counter duty.

There was no avoiding him, especially now Tyler had suddenly disappeared and reappeared at Kim’s table.

Their gazes met briefly, and Fred returned to what he was doing.

Ouch, she thought, and taking one deep breath, she picked up the courage to walk to him.

“What can I get you, ma’am?” Fred asked, rearranging the rolls.

“Fred-”

“-Alfred Duperly, to you, ma’am,” he cut in.

“That’s how we’re playing it?”

“There is no we here, Ms. Mercano. Do you have an order to place or not?”

There were little teardrops forming in her eyes. She kept blinking them away, but she was always the softest in the room, and they kept pushing until she had to use her hands.

“I’m sorry, Fred.”

Her voice sounded so fragile; it could have broken at a feather’s touch.

“Don’t you think it’s too late for that?”