Bathed and changed into fresh, comfortable clothes, Jack faced one of the most difficult tasks he had ever undertaken. When he slipped out of his room and went around the side of the building to get to where his car was parked, he luckily found a staff member outside. The man introduced himself as Gabriel. Jack was able to get his keys, retrieve his belongings, and hurry back to his room without being seen by Sarah.
However, he knew he couldn't keep avoiding her if he was going to stay until the next day. His stomach was already protesting from the lack of food, and he had to address that by going into what Sarah called "the lounge."
Jack had learned from her earlier directions that her parents had built this mini guest house, situated behind the lounge, about two years after business began to boom. They got the idea to build it for tired travelers or people who needed a place to rest away from their daily, conventional lives. The guest house comprised only ten rooms—five up, five down—which were filled up most weeks. It was almost totally hidden behind the main house, but part of its roof could be seen gaping upwards.
Sarah had led Jack to the guest house through the lounge's back door, making it clear he couldn't come in through it during the day because cooking and serving happened back there. It was a pretty thoughtful, diverse setup. During the day, the lounge served as a restaurant and cafe. At night, it functioned as a restaurant, bar, karaoke, and game club. It was a lot, but proper organization and the people's love for the place made it easy enough to run. All the initiatives that had been put into making the place a home away from home showed that Sarah was putting everything she had into it.
Yet, Jack had belittled the place indirectly. He should have been ashamed of himself, and Sarah should have shown him no mercy. He knew he had messed up, and so he braced himself to face her and all she would have to say. Knowing how frankly she expressed her feelings, he couldn't help but feel he was done for. Nonetheless, he would take it all in stride. His words were a low blow, and she had been nothing but considerate, even though it was obvious they didn't really like each other very much.
With determination and a hint of fear, Jack walked to the entrance of the lounge and opened the door. His heart, beating wildly in his chest, was soothed by the sweet voice of Adele singing "Make You Feel My Love." The music playing over the speakers was at a moderate volume, allowing people to talk without having to raise their voices.
As he scanned the room, Jack noticed that everyone seemed happy and content. The atmosphere felt warm and welcoming, as if he had just walked into a family gathering. He could almost feel it radiating from every corner of the room.
Unexpectedly, a pang of envy shot through him. He couldn't understand why he would feel this way in such a friendly environment. The feeling intensified in his chest and made his already queasy stomach churn. He quickly averted his gaze from the source of his discomfort. After a moment he looked back at Sarah. She was at the counter, wiping it down and then looked straight at him. A man was speaking to her, possibly Gabriel, in his immaculately white shirt and overly slim tie, Jack seemed to feel whatever the man was telling her was important, but she wasn't even looking at him. Her eyes were fixed on Jack.
He swallowed hard and moved with unsteady legs toward her. He couldn't chicken out of the apology he knew he had to make.
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"I— Erhh—" he stuttered when he got to the counter and sat on one of the stools facing her. He couldn't look directly at her, not at those soulful eyes staring into him. "I’m sorry... Again. I don't know why I have been such a jerk since I came here.
“You didn't deserve any of it, and so I take all my nasty words and attitude back. You are doing fantastic work here, and it's easy to see that the people love you and love the place. Who am I to make light of any of it? Who am I?" The last sentence felt like a must needed introspection.
She didn't say anything in reply to his whole speech, and he actually started to become introverted at her silence. He thought about how much of his bad attitude toward her could be attributed to his own frustrations with all he had left and the uncertainty of where he was going. The problem was him and had been him all along, he knew this. He was headed on a path of contemplation that went nowhere but down.
"So what are you hungry for?" she finally spoke.
Her question, delivered in a calm tone, disrupted his train of thought and left him momentarily puzzled. He lifted his gaze to meet hers.
"What?" he said slowly and perplexedly.
She shrugged her shoulders. "You haven't eaten yet and it's already past noon," she remarked, playfully rolling her eyes. "So what are you in the mood for?"
He tried a teasing smile, relieved that he had been forgiven so easily. "Are you still charging a thousand dollars?"
She gave a dry chuckle, shaking her head without looking at him. There was no teasing smile from her. His heart sank for some reason. She sighed as she made a last swipe over the far right part of the wooden counter and then back again. She looked at her watch, and her eyes widened.
"Shit!" she exclaimed. "I've got to go." She started to take off a white apron over the jumpsuit.
Gabriel stood beside Sarah, his posture stiff, eyes focused on the restaurant’s main floor as if he hadn’t just witnessed Jack’s awkward apology. The subtle shift in his stance—hands clasped behind his back, gaze intentionally averted—made it clear he was trying to give the impression of discretion, an act of politeness Jack couldn’t help but notice.
But Gabriel hadn’t left. He lingered, his presence almost hesitant, and Jack suspected why. Whatever Gabriel had been saying earlier, Sarah clearly hadn’t been listening. Her attention had been elsewhere—on Jack, not on him. Jack glanced at Gabriel again, catching the faint frustration behind his composed expression, and felt a small pang of pity for the man, still trying to salvage a conversation that had already been lost.
"Gabriel," Sarah said, wiping down her jumpsuit and putting fast-moving hands over her hair to smooth back straying strands, "please, get our visitor here a befitting meal. It should be served with utmost excellence and elegance, please. We wouldn't want to disrespect this big-city man."
"Yes, ma'am," the plain-faced Gabriel responded.
She snatched her handbag from the hook on the wall, her movements swift and deliberate, before heading for the door without a single glance back. The door swung shut behind her, the soft chime of the bell above it barely registering as she disappeared into the night. Jack swiveled in his chair, eyes fixed on the door as it gently settled into place.
For a moment, he stared after her, the relaxed atmosphere contrasting with the rush of her sudden departure. The door felt like a barrier now—solid and final—yet part of him couldn’t help but imagine her on the other side, slipping further out of reach. There was a heaviness in his chest, an ache that lingered as he sat there, longing unspoken but undeniable. The door’s quiet closure echoed in his mind, a reminder of what he hadn't said, and maybe, what he had lost in her hurried exit.