
116Please respect copyright.PENANAiyyNuhvcCz
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.
116Please respect copyright.PENANA28gZMFULTC
She barely spoke unless someone asked for something. Even then, it felt like moving underwater.
116Please respect copyright.PENANAgt7V5lnAHr
Nobody noticed. Or maybe they did and just didn’t care.
116Please respect copyright.PENANAYLJbE9yTUJ
Except Jonas.
116Please respect copyright.PENANANriOTjP1gv
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.
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“You okay?” he asked.
116Please respect copyright.PENANAGfI72fQcnj
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.
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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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116Please respect copyright.PENANAqcH8PVIYR1
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She didn’t know whether to cry or tear it up.
116Please respect copyright.PENANAbTyu8GPcWq
So she put it in her pocket and kept pouring coffee.
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