Page 7 of ICED
I slam on the brakes. Tires squeal. My heart lurches up into my throat as the truck skids just shy of the crossing.
She jerks to a stop, eyes wide as she wheels the stroller back, stumbling.
I throw the truck in park and jump out.
“Hey, are you okay?”
She’s pale. Breathing hard. The rain’s already clinging to her lashes.
“I…I didn’t see…”
“You didn’t, no, it’s okay. You’re okay. Is Lila… are you…?”
She nods, but it’s tight. She’s shaking.
I glance down into the stroller. The kid’s fine. Bundled up, wide-eyed, clutching a stuffed bunny like it holds the secrets of the universe.
“Come on,” I say gently. “Let me get you out of the rain. There’s a café just there.”
She hesitates.
“I promise I won’t bite. Not even if you offer me a croissant.”
That gets a flicker of something close to a smile. She nods.
“Okay, let me park the truck up, wait here.”
We walk in silence to the little corner café, me awkwardly steering the stroller while Maya hugs her coat around herself like armour. I hold the door open, ushering them inside. It’s warm and smells like burnt espresso.
We slide into a booth by the window. I go to order without asking because she still looks rattled. Two coffees. A muffin. Something sweet. Something easy.
When I return, she’s taken off her coat and settled Lila with a juice box. Her hands are still trembling as she cups the coffee.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I was distracted. That was reckless.”
I shake my head. “Hey. No harm done. Just glad you’re okay.”
“I didn’t expect to see you again.”
“I wasn’t planning to stalk you. Promise. Was just passing by. You gave me a heart attack, though. Gotta admit, that’s a first.”
Her mouth quirks. “First time a cupcake nearly killed you?”
“First time it wasn’t my baking that nearly did me in, yeah.”
There’s a beat of silence as she sips her coffee.
I glance at her over my cup. “Seriously. You sure you’re alright?”
She nods, but there’s something shadowed in her eyes. Something bruised and private. I don’t press. That’s not my place.
But I can sit here. I can drink coffee and let her catch her breath. I can offer silence that isn’t demanding.
After a while, she exhales softly.
“My ex used to say I never paid attention. That I lived with my head in the clouds. He said one day I’d get myself, or Lila hurt.”
Her fingers twist around the cup.
