
106Please respect copyright.PENANARJBj6uEZhD
Talia poured coffee like her body was running on autopilot.
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Customer. Mug. Smile. Repeat.
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The diner buzzed around her like a film she was watching from the outside. She could hear laughter, clinking dishes, the cook shouting out orders. But it didn’t reach her.
106Please respect copyright.PENANAhOfUzCStyr
She barely spoke unless someone asked for something. Even then, it felt like moving underwater.
106Please respect copyright.PENANAn9w6pT7HXk
Nobody noticed. Or maybe they did and just didn’t care.
106Please respect copyright.PENANAM4AIp1kYb5
Except Jonas.
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He always sat in booth three, always ordered black coffee and a grilled cheese. And always said, “Thanks, Talia,” like her name meant something.
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Today, he looked at her longer than usual.
106Please respect copyright.PENANAmSuOBQBYS3
“You okay?” he asked.
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She blinked. A full second passed before she gave him her usual answer:
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“Yeah.”
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He didn’t push. Just nodded.
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But after he left, she found a napkin folded under his coffee cup.
106Please respect copyright.PENANADEgV1LlhFR
It said:
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“You don’t look fine. If you ever want to talk, I’m always in booth three.”
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106Please respect copyright.PENANAYNgh5po571
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She didn’t know whether to cry or tear it up.
106Please respect copyright.PENANAd6XlAWH7ev
So she put it in her pocket and kept pouring coffee.
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