Chapter 4

That day, Isis left the café early. It was the first time he went home early, and Xanthe was secretly pleased. At least he had listened and was finally resting properly.

Isis had been working at her café for a week now. And she could say one thing: he was hardworking. No matter the task, he never complained. Even though his face rarely showed emotion, he worked well and efficiently.

“I’ll go ahead, boss,” Aiofe said, getting into a taxi.

“Okay.” Xanthe smiled and waved. “Take care, Aiofe. Good night.”

“Good night, boss,” Aiofe replied before closing the taxi door.

“Is it okay, boss, that we leave early?” Juls asked, riding on his motorcycle with Josh as his passenger. “It’s getting late.”

Xanthe smiled at them. “I’m fine. I can handle myself.”

“Alright, boss. Take care.”

“You too.”

After they left, Xanthe gazed at the dark sky, waiting for a passing taxi. She hugged herself against the chill and clenched her fists. Even after seeing many therapists to help her back heal, she was still afraid of the dark.

When will I forget what happened to me?

She exhaled sharply, closing her eyes tightly, trying to calm herself. She counted silently from one to ten, focusing on pleasant memories. Somehow, Isis entered her thoughts.

Xanthe smiled softly. Over the past few days, she had grown used to dining with him. It had become a small source of happiness for her. He wasn’t cheerful with others, but he always smiled for her.

A honk snapped her attention back to the street. A taxi pulled up. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it was empty.

She got in quickly, giving her home address while rifling through her bag for her wallet.

“It’s late. Just getting home now?” the driver asked.

Xanthe froze, eyes wide. She looked at him. “I-Isis?”

Isis smiled. “Evening, boss.”

Blinking, she stammered, “Y-you… a taxi driver too?”

“Yep.” He eased the taxi forward. “I need money, so I work hard. Taxi driver, DJ, waiter, gardener… I even carry luggage at a friend’s port. Honestly, it’s kind of fun.”

She stared at him in disbelief. He sounded wealthy in the way he spoke, dressed as if he came from a rich family. She suspected he was lying again.

Xanthe took a deep breath. “You have so many jobs. Do you even get time to rest?”

“I’m okay,” he replied automatically, expressionless.

She could tell he wasn’t. Dark circles under his eyes, weary posture… “Isis?”

“Hmm?”

“When was the last time you rested?”

He slowed the car, glancing at her occasionally. “Yesterday… or maybe two days ago… I’m not sure.”

Her chest tightened. “Are you okay?”

Isis nodded. “Yeah. Don’t worry. I’m used to it. I haven’t slept much these past few days, and resting is hard. I don’t want sleeping pills. They make me more tired.”

Xanthe couldn’t move, shocked by his words. What kind of life was this man living?

She took a deep breath and smiled, trying not to burden him with her worry. “Have you been driving all day?”

He nodded. “Since I left the café.”

“Have you eaten?”

“Not yet. Maybe later when I get home.”

Her worry deepened. “How’s your back?” she asked almost in a whisper. “Is it healing okay?”

“It’s fine,” he said, convincing.

She exhaled, relieved. Why even ask when he’ll just lie?

“You should stop that,” Isis said suddenly.

“Stop what?”

“Stop worrying about me,” he replied, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “I’ll start thinking too much.”

Blinking, Xanthe said, “What do you mean? I worry like this for everyone—”

“I know, and it pisses me off,” he interrupted, blowing out a loud breath. “I just don’t want you being too nice to me.”

Xanthe froze. This man wasn’t used to kindness. “Okay… I won’t.”

The rest of the ride was quiet. When Isis parked outside her house, she nodded silently and paid for the fare. Isis refused her payment, so she left it on the dashboard.

“Thank you,” she said, stepping out.

Isis didn’t want her kindness. Maybe it made him uncomfortable. She reminded herself to follow his request, but she couldn’t help glancing back. Her eyes widened as she saw him leaning against the taxi hood, watching her.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

“Weren’t you upset that I shouldn’t be nice to you?” she asked.

Isis sighed loudly and walked to her. “What can I say? I’m a sucker for you.”

“What does that mean?” she asked, confused.

“It’s a song,” he answered cheekily, dodging her question. “Don’t mind me.”

She ignored him. “Come in, then. I’ll make some coffee.”

He entered immediately.

“Sit down first,” she gestured to the sofa.

Xanthe placed her bag on the sofa and removed her shoes, then went to the kitchen to get cake from the fridge and make coffee for Isis.

Returning to the living room, she set the cake and coffee on the table. “Eat first. I’ll get changed.”

She quickly cleaned up and changed into comfortable home clothes, then returned to see Isis had finished the cake and half of the coffee.

“That was fast,” she said with a laugh.

Isis looked at her, smiling. “I wanted to take advantage of your niceness.” He patted the empty space on the sofa. “Sit here.”

She sat cautiously, wondering what he was up to. But soon she realized she didn’t need to overthink, his intention was clear.

He lay down on the sofa, resting his head on her thighs. Xanthe stiffened. She wasn’t used to being this close. She wanted to move him, but seeing how exhausted and hungry he was, she stayed still.

She allowed herself to adjust to the closeness, trying to be comfortable.

“Let’s stay like this a little while,” he murmured, closing his eyes. “Feels good…”

She looked down at him. His hair, previously dyed blonde at the tips, had returned to brown.

She reached out, running her hand through his hair to make herself comfortable. It felt soft. She inhaled slightly as Isis caught her hand and placed it on his chest.

She wanted to pull away but couldn’t. He was warm, and she hoped this closeness would help him rest. He had said earlier, I can’t sleep these past few days… it’s hard to rest…

“Isis?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t push me away. I know it’s uncomfortable, but… just for a minute?”

Xanthe exhaled deeply. “Your neck will hurt if your head stays on my lap. I’ll get a pillow.”

“It’s okay. You feel better than a pillow,” he whispered. “You feel warm. When was the last time I felt warmth? It’s always cold. Wherever I go, whatever I do… it’s cold.”

She let go of her hesitation. “Alright. Rest.”

He opened his eyes briefly, looking at her. “Can you stay like this a little longer? I know it’s selfish, uncomfortable, but… just a minute?”

She gently stroked his hair, keeping him from overthinking. “Rest. I’ll tell you if I need space.”

Isis closed his eyes, and within seconds, he was fast asleep.

Xanthe remained still in her seat, feeling sleepy herself. She leaned back on the sofa and slowly closed her eyes. Within moments, she drifted off, unaware of the world, even with a stranger in her home.