With one hand, Emily drew errant patterns across the surface of the bar with the condensation from her drink, the other hand supporting her chin as if her neck were unable to hold the weight of her head.
Around her the noise of the bar was rather dull and muted – probably because it was the early afternoon on a Tuesday – and anyone who had somehow found their way to a pub in the middle of the week wasn't exactly broadcasting the series of events that had lead them there. She felt a strange sort of kinship with her fellow patrons anyway...a consortium of fellow fuck-ups.
Granted, she tried not to make it a habit to patronize bars at two in the afternoon on a weekday, but she forgave herself in that moment because dwelling on her shitty life choices went down a little smoother with a bottle of beer to chase it down.
"Penny for your thoughts?" a voice spoke up suddenly from beside her.
Head whipping around from where she was staring blankly at the soggy label on her beer, she saw JJ climbing onto the bar stool next to her looking like she'd caught her with her hand in the cookie jar.
"Some librarian you are," JJ continued teasingly, "Getting plastered in the middle of the day..."
She rolled her eyes, gaze returning to the label as if it were suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. "I'm not drunk," she insisted. "This is my first beer."
"Still... Not exactly sound business practice."
"Shut up," she scoffed, but there was no heat behind it. She sighed, indicated to the bartender to fetch JJ a beer as well. "What are you doing here?" she asked at length when the silence had extended on longer than was comfortable.
"I've been looking everywhere for you," JJ informed her with faux-seriousness. "I thought you might be dead..."
Emily just raised a brow, unimpressed; mostly to distract from the way heat rose up her face at the memory of just how close she'd come to dying last night... Just a minute or two longer with his hand on her throat and Ian could very well have killed her.
"You didn't show up to bring Derek his lunch," JJ explained, apparently not having noticed the sudden change in Emily's behaviour. "You've showed up at the diner every day for a week, pretending to have time to kill and offering to bring him his lunch – even though it's fifteen minutes out of your way – like it's all some big coincidence."
"Oh..." she said lamely, cleared her throat. "Well, when you put it like that, I can see how that might seem like..."
"Like you have a big fat school-girl crush on him," JJ interrupted.
"Shhhh," Emily hissed. "Do you mind? You never know who might be listening..." She gestured vaguely at the other patrons of the bar, none of whom seemed particularly interested in the two women. (Maybe because they didn't want anyone taking particular notice in them.)
She at least had the decency to look chagrined. Then, continuing on in a quieter tone, "If you don't have a crush on him, then why?" When Emily hesitated, she reached over to rest a hand on top of hers in a silent gesture of support. "I'm not going to judge you or anything, I just want to know what's going on in that head of yours..."
When she spoke again, her gaze was unfocused and far away. "Have you ever met someone and felt like somehow, some way, you already know them? Like this familiar ache deep down inside you that extends beyond time, beyond memory, connecting the two of you...maybe from another lifetime entirely, but undeniable and impossible to ignore?"
For a few moments, JJ just stared at her, mouth hanging open slightly. "I'm guessing you aren't talking about Ian..." she whispered eventually. She didn't want to admit that she knew exactly the feeling she was talking about, wasn't sure she was ready to admit to anyone – even her best friend – just how deeply her feelings ran for a man she barely knew, seemingly without explanation, without reason.
Emily shook her head. She didn't need to speak his name for her to know that she meant Derek.
"Em..." She started, stopped, sighed.
"I know, I know, I'm married and I have absolutely no business having weird pit-of-your-stomach feelings for a man I've only met in passing, but I can't control it! He makes me feel...whole."
"As your friend..." JJ tried to offer some pearl of wisdom she wasn't even sure she possessed, then stalled again, shook her head.
"So, we are friends?" Emily couldn't help but interrupt, Ian's words from the night before still ringing in her ears (the truth was, for as long as she could remember she'd never truly felt like she belonged anywhere and hearing it said aloud that she, in fact, didn't belong made it feel like a heavy stone had taken up residence deep inside her).
"Well, of course we are," JJ insisted, looking at her as if she'd sprouted a second head to have ever doubted that seemingly universal truth. "I think you might be the best friend I have in this entire world."
Emily let out a breath of relief. "Good," she confirmed. "Good."
"What has gotten into you?" she enquired. "You don't seem like yourself..."
Chewing her lip for a moment, she seemed to debate how much of the truth to confide in her – supposed – friend. "I just... I had a fight with Ian," she confessed. "And, I don't know, I'm not sure I can stay married to him."
"Oh, Em..." JJ whispered, eyes sombre, sad, but with a fire inside that said she was ready to support her come hell or high water. She leaned in until her shoulder bumped into Emily's and, with a little sigh, Emily leaned the rest of the way until their temples met.
Neither woman said anything. There was nothing to say.