past the lump in my throat.
THE FIRST THING I DID Monday morning was drop a check in the mail, for a normal loan payment amount, addressed to Kingu Kafe’s corporate offices. I couldn’t pay them back all at once, but there was no way in hell I was taking anything from Kingston and Owen, especially money.
Sadie became my shadow, going so far as to get up when I did, and make me breakfast. I’m pretty sure she would have force fed me if I hadn’t eaten voluntarily. With her company, it was easy to distract myself from my thoughts.
On Friday, a letter arrived from Kingu Kafe. My torn up check was inside, along with a note written in simple block letters. The money was a gift. Non-returnable. We miss you. Owen.
I used a baking blow torch to light the entire thing on fire in a steel bowl in the café’s kitchen, while Sadie watched.
“Are you going to send them another one?” she asked.
It was tempting. “What do you think the odds are they’ll send it back the same way?”
“Is either of them as stubborn as you?” Her question was kind.
I twisted my mouth in disbelief. “Do you remember who they were before...” The playful retort turned to ashes in my mouth. Before they decided to stop asking to buy me out, and moved to using me instead? “I’m done dealing with them.”
The next week, I fell back into more of my routine. Except, every time I thought of Kingston and Owen, my heart cracked.
Though technically, I was almost always thinking about them. I missed them so desperately. My mind and heart never stopped arguing over I love them versus they lied to me. About something huge. Even worse, I never knew which part of me would take which side.
Violet, Sadie, and I were sitting around the café after it closed, taking our time cleaning up for the evening. Sadie would probably head back home in a few days. Which was fair, her husbands missed her, like I would when she was gone.
She and Anne already had a schedule worked out, to make sure I behaved. I’d assured them that was unnecessary, but I did appreciate the concern.
Violet finished putting up the last of the chairs, save for those we were sitting in, and joined Sadie and I at a table near the counter. We were discussing the café’s next Cosplay Saturday, and whether we should have a set theme, with Sadie providing costumes. Something I was happy to spend a little extra business money on, for both her and my employees.
“You’re dressing up again.” Sadie wasn’t asking.
And there was another shitty memory. I exposed so much more of myself than my body at the end of that day. “No.”
“You were glowing last time,” Violet said.
“Because—” an attractive man told me I was pretty. “No.”
Sadie scowled. “You rocked that skirt. You put so many of my peers to shame.”
“But not you.” I let a hint of bitterness into my retort.
“Including me. You were a goddess. And it wasn’t because some guy was here.”
“No, but it was because some guy lied about how he felt about me, and I believed the bullshit.”
“Did he?” Sadie countered. “I know he kept something from you. But that doesn’t mean he lied about all of it. And if he did, fuck that guy. His faults don’t change how incredible you are.”
“A lot of my kids struggle with who they are versus who the world tells them they should be.” Violet’s statement came out of nowhere. Her kids weren’t actually her children—she volunteered at an LGBTQ+ shelter for teenagers when she wasn’t here.
I had no idea how she found the time for all of it, but I understood being driven to keep busy. “I can see how that would be a common theme.” I was missing a connection between her statement and our conversation. “Do they... turn to cosplay?” How idiotic did I sound right now?
Violet smiled. “Sometimes. Everyone copes differently. A lot of them, when they lose the support of people who were supposed to love them, because the kids don’t meet that pre-defined mold, don’t know where to find the line anymore between a forgivable slight and an unforgivable action.”
“Ah.” She was talking about me. “I’m fat. I’m insecure. I screwed out of my league. Not even in the same ballpark as someone’s parents turning their backs on them for who they love.”
“I don’t pass judgment on the severity of the hurt, only that people