Seeing the café’s front of house lights turn off, Mari breathed a sigh of relief. The hour leading up to closing was always tense, spent getting an early start on closing procedures while under the looming threat of having one more ticket come into the kitchen and undo all of the progress made. As summer’s official beginning approached and brought more tourists by the day, attempting to leave before midnight slowly became less of a goal and more of a pipe dream. Mari knew better than to complain about any increase in business, but staying late to prepare for the next morning was hardly enviable, particularly in that moment. It was an understatement to say that it had been a long day.
Mari had been woken up unusually early, the night before still working its way through her system. Pushing aside the empty glass and half-filled gin bottle that had accompanied her to bed, she’d angrily groped for her phone as she was rapidly shifting from peaceful sleep to blind rage. Groaning and silently cursing whoever had made the mistake of either dialing the wrong number or thinking she’d let them extend her car’s warranty, she was ready to unleash a torrent of vitriol against whoever had disturbed her reprieve from consciousness until, her fingers finally finding the phone and furiously clutching it, she’d brought it to her face and seen the name. In an instant, her sleep-addled mind shifted into high gear as she recognized Lily’s name and her mood shifted from irritation to concern. Knowing how late her nights were, Lily only contacted her during the day if something had gone wrong.
As it had turned out, Mari’s expectation wasn’t entirely off the mark; Lily needed to know if she could work the weekend as she was expecting Allison to be dealing with what Lily would initially only refer to as “a situation.” Though Mari certainly had a soft spot for Lily and often made an exception for her in her distaste for people in general, her patience wasn’t limitless. Knowing that there was more to the story that was being kept from her made it difficult to blindly agree with it, even for Lily’s sake.
“Look, just…tell me what’s going on.”
Lily had given a long pause before taking a deep breath. “Fine…that’s fair. It’s just that…today is the day, I think.”
Her mind still fogged by fatigue, Mari struggled to remain calm while deciphering what Lily wasn’t saying. “Lily, I’ve had, like, four hours of sleep, so—”
“She’s on her way to talk to Remy.” Lily spit the words out as if they were burning her tongue. “She’s going to ask her out today.”
All traces of sleep vanished from Mari’s mind immediately, understanding violently jolting her awake. The words pierced her heart like an arrow and shattered it. There was a long moment in which Mari allowed years of habit to check her emotions, ensuring a steady voice and placid expression. After a few seconds’ effort, only the pain in her hollow chest remained.
“Is that all? Yeah, I’ll be there.”
Lily hesitated before responding, clearly unprepared for the response. “A—are you sure? I could always ask—”
“I’m fine. I could use the hours, anyway.” Mari’s voice remained steady, but she knew it wouldn’t last. She was on borrowed time.
“Are you…are you still sure that you’re okay with this—?”
“It’s none of my business.”
Lily had fallen silent as Mari’s words cut through her own. Mari had felt a pang of guilt on hearing her own voice, the sound heavy with irritation and far more harsh than she’d intended. It wasn’t that she was angry with Lily; in fact, she wasn’t angry at all. She was afraid. She was keeping the growing surge of emotions at bay, but she knew that she couldn’t keep it up for long. All she’d wanted in that moment was to end the conversation and find some privacy before her endurance was exhausted entirely. It was her primary rule that was at stake, the one that must never be violated: They can never see. Mari quickly agreed to be there an hour early later that day, then ended the call and stared at the phone in silence. When her vision began to blur, she sat up on the edge of her bed and let habit lead her hand to grasp the gin bottle by its neck. She’d willed her focus to shift from the warmth of the tears on her cheeks to the burn in her throat, grateful for anywhere else to put her attention until she felt warmth filling the void inside of her. She’d passed the time until salvation found her with what, by that point, had become a mantra.
I’m fine.
Mari glanced up at a clock on the wall as she made her way to the restroom. Shocked that it wasn’t quite 9:30 yet, she briefly congratulated herself for managing to finish early for once before considering the options for the evening that were suddenly available to her. As she’d agreed to work open to close over a weekend before continuing with her regular schedule on Monday, Lily had insisted that Mari take the next two days off to rest beforehand. Mari attempted to argue, but to no avail. Still in a hurry to end the phone call, she couldn’t put as much of herself into arguing as she might have liked, though she later admitted that there hadn’t been much of an argument to make. Lily wasn’t one to ignore anyone’s well-being, and would’ve needed to be thoroughly convinced that she wasn’t doing so to let the matter drop. After having made such a show of proclaiming that there was nothing about Allison’s plans for the weekend that should concern her, Mari couldn’t follow it up by admitting that having to go to work would’ve been a relief as it would give her something to occupy her thoughts. She fully intended to not only work open to close on Saturday and Sunday after her regular Friday evening shift, but also do all of her own prep work and cleaning. By her calculations, that would leave, at most, four hours a night for sleeping. In her mind, it was as good a scenario as it could’ve been, the only flaw being having the next two days to try to not feel anything.
In the restroom, Mari unbuttoned her chef coat and let it fall open, exposing her black camisole and overheated skin to the cool air outside of the kitchen. She breathed a sigh of relief as she removed her beret and unpinned the hair hidden beneath it, letting it fall free for the first time in hours in a cascade down her back like a black waterfall. On any other day, it would’ve been among the best feelings in the world to be caressed by the cool evening air rather than the relentless heat of an oven, a serene signal to end the work day and begin a well-earned rest. That evening, however, Mari couldn’t focus on it. She stood there in front of a mirror over a sink, staring at her reflection and slowly falling into an old habit.
She took in her features, her heavy mascara, her smoky violet eyeshadow and her lipstick, a purple so dark that it was nearly black. Each thing she noticed, she compared to her memory of the one time she’d visited the nearest grocery store and met Remy. Point for point, she compared herself to her memory as she braced herself against the sink and leaned closer to the mirror. The deep brown of her eyes was at least a shade darker, and her skin tone was several lighter. Her hair was almost perfectly straight, the only deviations coming from being pinned in place beneath her beret. It only shared its color and length with Remy’s, featuring none of her gentle curls and waves. Remy’s makeup was minimal and natural, a world removed from Mari’s almost haunting dark colors framing her features. The differences were as clear as day, but their significance was lost on her. There was no taking one or the other as being inherently better or worse, merely different. There was only one thing separating her appearance from Remy’s that held any significance, but it made all of the difference in the world: Allison apparently had a preference.
“Alright, I’m ready to—Mari? Are you okay?”
Mari turned to the restroom door as it opened to see Andrea standing there, her car keys already in her hand. For a moment, she was at a loss as to why Andrea was staring at her that way, her face contorted by both surprise and sympathy. Feeling a familiar warmth on her cheek, Mari finally noticed the one thing about her appearance that she’d failed to notice, much less scrutinize. Practice moved her body when her will failed, her thick-soled boots storming toward the door and startling Andrea into instinctively clearing the way. Mari’s hands quickly brushed over her eyes in a single motion as her expression became unnaturally placid, and her voice was an unexpected sensation rising in her throat, feeling as if she was speaking someone else’s words.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“I’m fine.”
Pushing the exterior door open, Mari didn’t even bother to perform her usual check to make certain the area was clear before walking through. She felt like a caged bird, desperate to take flight as if the opportunity would pass if she hesitated for too long. Andrea quickly followed behind her, pausing only long enough to ensure that the self-locking door had sealed itself shut properly before making her way to her car without a word. It was common knowledge in the café to not waste words on simple pleasantries where Mari was concerned, so it wasn’t especially surprising. Still, Mari couldn’t ignore the tension in the air that she’d created any more than she could not curse herself for doing so. She had no more against Andrea than she had against anyone else that worked there and lived under the assumption that she hated them all, but she was at a loss as to how to convey that to them. Instead, all she could do was restore the distance between herself and the inevitable pain that came with getting too close.
Getting into her car, Mari took a moment to attempt to collect herself and put her emotions aside. She was still angry with herself, her reasons shifting from unintentionally poisoning the atmosphere a moment earlier to having put herself in a position to do so in the first place. The last several months had been a long and torturous process, but she was certain that she’d managed to finally put those kinds of thoughts behind her. She started her car and pulled out of the parking lot repeating the same thoughts she’d always had in these moments, telling herself again and again that, for better or worse, it was over. It was time to let go. Driving in the cool night air and warm glow of street lamps, she told herself that she should be grateful. At least she’d had the sense to not break her rule and expose herself. It could’ve been a catastrophe, burdening someone with feelings that they were incapable of returning and doing far more harm than not being friendly enough when covering a broken heart. Mari was determined to remember that, all things considered, this was a best-case scenario. Of all of the bad endings, this was the best of them.
Mari managed to distract herself, but not enough to not notice that she was passing through the Square. In spite of herself, she found herself slowing to a stop as she drew near the wisteria tree dominating the town center. She followed the beams of light from the spotlights set into the ground as they rose into the air and illuminated the lavender petals that occasionally drifted from their branches and sprinkled the ground below. As with every time she saw it, she couldn’t keep Allison’s voice from repeating the words that Mari had long since given up on trying to not hear. It had been such a simple thing, an offhand comment made in the middle of a discussion with Lily that she’d never even been meant to hear. Mari would spend weeks afterward telling herself that Allison’s cheerful exclamations about not being able to wait until spring to see the tree bloom were just an attempt to make conversation and should mean nothing to her, but that was in the days when she was still refusing to believe that Allison could inspire any feelings in her at all. In reality, it was the moment that Mari discovered that Allison had an artist’s soul and a penchant for the romantic. As she mused endlessly on what beautiful moments could be created in such a place, Mari’s thoughts were slowly focusing on one in particular. Since that moment, it was rare for a day to pass without her imagining herself sitting on a bench under that tree, watching Allison approach and preparing to, for the first time, close the distance rather than widen it. Again feeling warmth where it shouldn’t be, Mari turned her attention back to the road as she again forced herself forward.
With her thoughts continuously drifting between what could have been and what most certainly was, Mari didn’t have any attention to give to where she was going until she’d arrived. Again, habit saw her through when her will failed her. Before she’d fully realized it, she found herself getting out of her car and looking up at the front door of a liquor store. Remembering the gin bottle that she’d woken up to that was now lying empty, she finally understood how she’d come to be standing there and breathing a sigh of relief to see the store’s interior lights still on. There were ten minutes left until closing and, between being intimately familiar with the store’s shelves and not feeling especially picky as long as the burn could force her thoughts into submission, that was nine more minutes than she needed. The next two days were going to be long, and she was woefully unprepared to endure them. It was time to stock up.
As she quickly walked along the aisles, Mari again cursed herself. She was certain that this was over by now, a ridiculous fantasy run out of control that should’ve been long since brought to heel and its damage undone. It ended on the day that Allison had returned from one of her unexpected grocery trips with a wistful smile and Mari, still in the midst of marveling at her radiance, learned that smile was meant for someone in particular. That was the day that Mari decided she was learning a life lesson that should’ve been absorbed long ago, and everything she was feeling was her justly deserved punishment for not taking it to heart the first time. All of this could’ve been quite easily avoided had she done so. This day was inevitable; Allison was too charming and confident to let fear keep her from what she wanted for long, and the sparkle in her eyes every time Remy was mentioned made it clear what she wanted. Mari had been given more than enough time to prepare for what had been obvious from the beginning, and she felt foolish for allowing the day to come and somehow still being unprepared. She’d thought earlier that day that perhaps she was ready, that the morning’s call from Lily was simply a matter of being exhausted and caught unaware. With enough time to prepare before seeing Allison that day, it was passing just as every other had when they found themselves working together. She’d even managed to help Allison push through the last of her fear—and closer to Remy. In her mind, she should’ve been fine, finally moving past fantasy and back into reality. After all, this was only ever going to end one way.
Stepping out of the liquor store, Mari was already thinking of how to best put the armful of clinking glass bottle to use when she got home when her eye caught lights shutting off in the distance. She tried to stop herself from looking up, telling herself again and again that there was nothing noteworthy about a store’s lights shutting off at ten o’clock. As if to confirm, the lights of the liquor store shut off just as she was getting into her car, the owner only leaving them on long enough to ensure that Mari had reached safety. She struggled to keep her thoughts on the road, the liquor, the time, the weather or anything else as she drove past the grocery store standing between her and her apartment. Just as she’d nearly passed it, her eyes betrayed her and darted to the side, quickly scanning the store’s interior as her heart came to a stop and waited. She knew before she started looking that she wouldn’t see Remy in there this late, and it would make no difference if she did. Why she could never stop herself from caring remained a mystery.
Even putting aside the inexplicable desire, she had experience to prove the point. In the early days of attempting to put thoughts of Allison out of her mind, she was failing particularly miserably one morning and, in a haze of sorrow and whiskey, she found herself standing in the middle of the store and asking for the location of pears that she knew for a fact were out of season. She never understood why, but she needed to see Remy for herself just once. She couldn’t put the final nail into the coffin of her desires until she saw what she was up against, and she saw exactly what she expected. She was prim and proper, tall, curvy and effortlessly beautiful. She was everything that Mari wasn’t. They weren’t even opposite sides of the same coin; there was no relation between them at all. She never understand why, but it was what she needed to finally put her heart into moving forward.
Finally home, Mari dropped everything but the bag filled with liquor bottles on the floor, her purse, keys, chef coat and beret leaving a trail from her front door to her kitchen. Somewhere along the way, there had been an intent that involved a glass but, by the time the bag was safely resting on a counter and an elegant vodka bottle had been pulled free of it, that intent was abandoned in favor of expediting relief. There was a vague thought about appreciating the smooth flavor and surprisingly floral bouquet, but the pretense annoyed her more than it helped. She knew before she’d bought it that she needed it in her system as quickly as possible, coursing through her veins and cushioning the blows against her heart that, for some reason, refused to relent. Satisfied that the process had begun, Mari finally reached for a glass as she struggled to put the grocery store out of her mind once and for all. The burn in her throat that was beginning to spread through her body was slowly renewing her determination to be done with this, to do something dramatic to make amends for her failures and prove her dedication to the cause.
Reaching for a bottle of cranberry juice, she froze in place as a thought occurred to her. As she was struggling to put Remy out of her mind, she was reminding herself of the one time they’d met and how the entire experience had proven to be pointless. In spite of that, she couldn’t entirely ignore the desire to do it again, a twisted and masochistic desire to cause herself more pain for reasons unknown. In a grim moment of inspiration, she saw herself once again standing in front of Remy, this time having a conversation not unlike the one she’d had with Allison earlier in the day. It was like driving a dagger into her own heart, but this time deliberately rather than as an unintended consequence of failing to contain her emotions properly. Something about the thought was darkly beautiful, a fitting end to this daydream turned nightmare. She had one advantage over Remy, one bit of knowledge that she knew Remy lacked. She jealously guarded the secret as the one thing that was hers alone, but it was time to let it go. She tried to focus on that part of it, that she was bringing an end to this torture on her own terms and desperately trying to not admit that she was certain that it was what Allison would want, even if not how Mari always dreamed of presenting it to her.
Time would go on. Life would go on. The sun would rise the next morning and, if Mari could manage to stand, she would face it. The first step in doing so would be relinquishing her beautiful secret to someone who needed and deserved it far more than she did. She would drag herself to that store one last time and, under the guise of searching for some other bit of out of season produce, she would find a way to speak of beautiful moments that should be shared under the gently falling lavender petals of wisteria trees. It was time to let go.