He had been right.
Friday, 8:00PM. Outside, seated at his usual table, as the sun set below the sea and the little cafe was bathed in soft scarlet. Waiting. For someone who would never arrive.
It felt like home.
The ball was in her court, but he knew that she wasn't even in the game. She was in her own game, miles away from him. And that was all right.
But there was no denying that the solitude was heavy.
He kept the new habit religiously. Only a few weeks passed before he was easily recognized as a regular; the young man who appeared every Friday evening at 8:00 on the dot and sat outside at the same table until closing. Always nice, always alone, and always observing. Not once would he pick up his phone or read a book or strike up a conversation. He would only watch. The sunset, the passersby, the ships out at sea.
He never appeared anything other than friendly and pensive, but the baristas who whispered quiet gossip to each other behind the counter wondered about the air of melancholy that seemed to weigh heavily around him.
Two months passed in relative calm. He was able to find steady work around the area, keeping him near his comfortable apartment and the little cafe, which was all he wanted. Content enough to keep to himself, his work, and his Fridays. Or so he tried to believe.
"I wonder if I should pick up journaling," he muttered to himself one Friday evening as he sipped a cappuccino and watched the sunset. "There's so much stuff I need to get out of my head, but . . . who in the world could I even talk to?"
"Ah, so you've finally realized that you could use a little bit more company than just yourself, eh?"
He nearly jumped out of his seat as a voice with a thick Scottish accent spoke from behind him. Whirling around, he found himself looking into the kindly eyes of an older man with short pepper-gray hair and a bushy gray mustache. He wore a small white apron, and he was holding a broom.
"Ah, I'm sorry for barging in on you. Wasn't very polite of me." The old man held out his hand. "Laurence Kelly's the name; I'm the owner. Don't know if you've seen me around, but I've seen you here plenty. I've been wondering about you, I won't lie to you."
"Oh–no worries, mate. I'm, uh, I'm glad to meet you. My name's . . ."
Why had he stopped?
What was his name?
He had two choices. One of them was what she had called him.
" . . . Gray. I'm Gray."
He gripped the old man's hand.
Not even my name feels right anymore.
"It's good to finally meet you, Grey." Mr. Kelly smiled warmly. He propped the broom up against a nearby table, pulled out a chair across from Gray, and sat down heavily. "Now, tell me. What brings you here?"
Gray opened his mouth to speak, but found that he was at a loss for words. This wasn't the way he had intended to spend his evening. But this old man was far too friendly for Gray to dismiss him right away. Perhaps a short little chat was all he was after.
"Ah, well, coffee's good. And I do enjoy that view–"
"That's not what I meant, lad."
" . . . oh." Gray cleared his throat, but kept silent. He had the uncomfortable feeling of being caught out, and his usual smooth demeanor had abandoned him.
"What I mean is, what brings you here at the exact same time every Friday evening, and keeps you here until I'm locking up the doors?" Mr. Kelly asked.
But Gray found himself unable to answer. There was a tightness in his throat that threatened to betray him. He coughed and avoided direct eye contact as a silence stretched between them.
Mr. Kelly turned his gaze out to the shimmering waves in the distance and sighed softly. "I know the look of a man waiting for something–or someone– they know won't come." He looked back at Gray with eyes clouded with an old, quiet sadness. "What curse has been laid upon your shoulders, lad?"
Gray took in a long breath, feeling as though he had found the one person who would understand. At least, a person who cared to hear.
"Her . . . her name is Carmen. But she's not the curse. I am."
Holy crap.
SO, my sincere apologies for disappearing for an entire year. I'm not even gonna try to go into everything that's happened since then that threw me off track, but hey, I'm back.
Thank you so much to everyone who left a review on chapter one. Again, I'm so sorry for disappearing, and I'm sorry that this chapter is so short. This story actually does mean a lot to me and I hope I can keep my focus on it for as long as it needs now.
Thank you for reading, and I'll see you again soon!
