Page 36 of Breaking Point

My crying slowly subsides, my breathing easing as the night carries on.

It's only then that I realize maybe I didn’t really want to be alone after all.

Chapter Seventeen

Crew

Idon’t know why I did it. I don’t know why it matters that I sat beside her last night. Comforted her. I just… saw her… and I knew the anguish written on her face. I know what it’s like to be there. I know grief, and she was painted in it.

I couldn’t accept it. But now I’m contemplating whether I should have.

It’s Thursday which means that come Friday night, it will be my first full weekend shift, and it’s a busy one. Olivia has two weddings, and with how late the first ones were, I can only guess my entire sleep schedule is going to be fucked.

As if it isn’t already.

Olivia hasn’t come out of her room. I usually hear her wake at six or seven, but it’s nearing nine and her door only now creaks open. She softly pads to the bathroom as I finish my oatmeal and eggs.

It’s an odd routine to get ready in someone else’s house. To use their things and memorize their space. The thought dissipates when the bathroom door opens again and she creeps into the living room.

Chesna trails behind her, and I clear my throat when I realize Olivia’s wearing nothing but an oversized tee-shirt and a tiny pair of shorts. I avert my gaze from her bare legs, shoveling food into my mouth. She opens the hallway closet to scoop a cup of kibble into Chesna’s bowl.

“Good morning,” she calls softly.

“Morning.”

Do I acknowledge what happened last night?

At my silence, her gaze lifts and she smiles as she tracks into the kitchen behind me. She toys with the coffeemaker for a few moments before I hear her voice. “Do you want any?”

“I’ll have mine later. Thanks… Taylor is taking over early today. I have a couple of errands to run before this weekend.”

She hums in response, shrugging her slightly mused hair over her shoulder while digging around in the fridge for some creamer. Every sound, every lingering moment of silence, hangs in the air.

“About last night,” she begins, facing me as the coffee machine whirs.

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

She cocks a small smile. “I know. I just felt like I should explain. Or I did… but it happened. I wanted to say thank you.” She twists a golden strand of hair between her fingers, nervously. “For being there- and not expecting an explanation.”

It’s my job, I want to say, but it wouldn’t be the truth. I wouldn’t have done what I did last night for anyone else. The thought is jarring, and ultimately, I just don’t have an answer for why.

I settle for nodding. “You’re welcome.”

She smiles again- this time, it very nearly looks like arealsmile- just as her brew finishes. She busies herself fixing her coffee.

Chesna finishes her food before jumping onto the counter across from me. Tail swishing, sunlight fans her face, sending a glow over her dark feline eyes.

I can’t say I’ve ever thought about having a pet of my own. I’m still fairly opposed to the idea of a cat as it is, but I down the last of my eggs before steeling my resolve.

“Why Chesna?”

Olivia’s eyes widen. I remember one of our last conversations:

“Take it or leave it.”

She smiles as if remembering it too.

My question is a white flag.

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