The hands on the clock ticked closer to midnight. The last of the patrons finally stumbled out the door, leaving to my nightly cleaning ritual. My hands ached as I wiped down tables, stacking chairs on top of them. My eyes kept drifting to the trash can, where the crumpled invitation lay buried beneath coffee grounds and napkin debris.
Tonight, I was grateful for the double shift. The busier I was, the less ti I had to think about Drake, his impending wedding, and the role Sarah played in it all.
As I swept the floor, the back door creaked open. Sarah stood in the doorway, a cloud of expensive perfu preceding her. Her eyes sparkled under the dim lights, and her short blue dress hugged her curves. She looked like she was off to so upscale nightclub, her high heels clicking against the floor.
"Hey, Ella," she said, her eyes flicking to the broom in my hand. "Didn't realize you were working a double today."
"Yeah, Tony's doing a favor. Extra cash never hurts." I forced a smile, trying to ignore the gri under my nails and the sweat drying on my forehead.
She walked over, her steps graceful despite the restricted fabric hugging her thighs. "I forgot my earrings in the dressing room. Almost ran straight into Drake on my way here."
My stomach lurched at his na. "Oh?"
"He seed... tense." Sarah's eyes narrowed, her perfectly manicured fingers toying with the strap of her purse. "I guess it's natural, with the wedding so close. He looked ready to bolt."
I gripped the broom tighter, my knuckles turning white. "Right. Well, weddings are stressful." My voice ca out sharp, the edges of my pain threatening to cut through my carefully constructed facade.
"They don't have to be." Sarah smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Especially when you've found your perfect match."
The sa match that used to be mine. I swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat and busied myself with sweeping a pile of dust toward the dustpan.
She tilted her head, her gaze softening as she took in my disheveled appearance. "I didn't an to upset you, Ella. It's just... Drake and I, we're good together. I wanted you to hear it from before the wedding."
I straightened, eting her gaze. "I appreciate that, Sarah." My voice was asured, each word chosen with care. "It's not easy, but I'm happy for you both."
A ghost of a smile played at the corners of her mouth. "You always were too good for your own good, Ella Thompson. Anyways, I should head out. Big day tomorrow."
I watched her go, her hips swaying as she strolled out the back door, leaving alone with my thoughts and the faint traces of her perfu.
The silence that followed Sarah's departure enveloped , heavy with mories and regrets. I locked the back door, leaning my forehead against the cold tal. Hot tears stung my eyes, blurring the labels of the liquor bottles on the shelves. I wasn't sure why I was crying—the hurt had already settled deep in my bones, a familiar ache.
I thought back to the days when Drake and I would sit at this very bar, laughter echoing off the walls. We'd talk about our dreams, our plans for the future, never imagining that life would lead us here. I wanted to believe that the man I knew then was still sowhere within him, buried under the weight of ambition and desire.
My fingers curled around the edge of the trash can, and I pulled out the crumpled invitation. The crisp paper, embossed with elegant lettering, mocked my loneliness. I smoothed it against my thigh, feeling the weight of the mont.
"I'll go," I whispered, my voice echoing in the empty bar. "I'll show them that I'm fine, that I don't care."
But even as the words left my mouth, I knew it wasn't true. I did care. I still cared about Drake, about the life we could have had, and about the friend I thought I knew in Sarah. Anger and hurt tangled within , knotting my stomach.
With a swift movent, I stuffed the invitation into my pocket, feeling its sharp corners dig into my thigh. I straightened my spine, wiping the remaining tears from my cheeks with the back of my hand. I had to keep moving, keep pushing forward. That's what I always did.
I finished sweeping, piling the dust and debris into the dustpan. The mundane task grounded , helping regain my composure. My mind wandered to Madison, and I wished she were here with . I could use her fierce spirit and unwavering love right now.
As I dumped the dust into the trash, I noticed the cobwebs in the corner. The bar might be old, but it didn't have to look neglected. I grabbed the broom and began swiping at the delicate webs, sending the tiny spiders scattering.
My phone buzzed on the counter, likely another ssage from Madison. I smiled, feeling a surge of love for my daughter, the one constant in my life. I'd tell her about the invitation and Drake's impending wedding, but not tonight. Tonight, I'd let her sleep, unaware of the fresh turmoil brewing in my heart.
As I finished cleaning, the silence of the empty bar enveloped once more. I secured the locks on the back door, then turned off the lights, plunging the room into darkness. I stood there for a mont, letting the quiet surround , then made my way out.
I locked the door behind , my fingers fumbling with the keys in the quiet night. The air was crisp against my flushed cheeks, a reminder of the autumn chill that had begun to settle over Rivergate. I walked down the familiar path to our modest ho, my thoughts drifting to Madison. I hoped she'd fallen asleep easily, her artistic mind not keeping her awake with swirling ideas and half-finished paintings.
As I approached our building, I slowed my steps, careful to keep the rattling keys from jingling too loudly. The creaking floorboards upstairs signaled that Mrs. Patterson, our elderly neighbor, was still awake, likely knitting another sweater for her ever-growing pile of grandchildren.
I inserted the key into the lock, turning it gently, and pushed the door open with a soft click. The lights were off, the apartnt quiet. I tiptoed inside, my eyes adjusting to the dim moonlight filtering through the window.
I paused, listening for any signs of Madison, but heard only the soft, steady sound of her breathing. I smiled to myself, imagining her curled up under her favorite blanket, her long brown hair spilling over the pillow.
I made my way to the small bathroom, wincing as the floorboard beneath my feet let out a faint creak. I closed the door softly behind and quickly changed into my oversized T-shirt, brushing my teeth in the dark to avoid turning on the light.
I carefully hung my uniform on the back of the bathroom door. Tomorrow, I'd wash it, along with the rest of our laundry, using the last of the detergent. I made a ntal note to pick up more from the store, adding it to the growing list of errands for the week.
Silent as a shadow, I crept back out and crossed the living room to the small pull-out couch, now Madison's bed. I gazed down at her sleeping form, her face peaceful, the soft rise and fall of her chest the only movent in the room.
A wave of tenderness washed over , and I fought the urge to wake her, craving the comfort only she could provide. Instead, I pulled the blanket up to her chin, tucking her in, then leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. Her skin was cool against my lips, and I smiled, knowing she was dreaming.
I stood there for a mont, watching her, my heart full and heavy. Being a mother was the one thing I knew I'd done right, and I vowed to shield her from the hurts and betrayals I'd faced, for as long as I could.
With a final glance, I turned away and made my way to the single bedroom we shared. The apartnt was quiet I crawled under the covers, pulling the soft fabric up to my chin, and breathed in the comforting scent of lavender from my pillow.
I lay there for a while, my eyes tracing the familiar cracks in the ceiling, my thoughts drifting to Drake and the life we'd once shared. The moon cast soft shadows on the walls, the silence heavy with mories and what-ifs.
But soon, exhaustion pulled under, and I welcod the darkness, glad to escape into the oblivion of sleep.
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