my elbows on the counter, grinning. “I had my coffee, but you know me, I can’t say no to more.”
Mark pauses arranging a set of beautiful blueberries to narrow his cobalt blue eyes on me. “I said a cuppa. That means tea, lass.”
“I want coffee.”
“Are you even English? You’re probably one of those French who infiltrated us after the war.”
“Don’t be dramatic, Mark.” Lisbeth shakes her head before disappearing behind a door to the right.
I place a hand over my heart and feign gasping. “I haven’t thought about that but maybe I am.”
He huffs. “Bloody French.”
“Bloody Brits. No, that’s not it.” I adopt my funniest French and gesticulate wildly. “Pfft. Les Anglais!!”
Mark guffaws and his belly moves with the deep-throated laughter. I can’t help but laugh along.
These simple, warm-hearted exchanges are what keep me afloat since that day I walked out of Le Salon and never looked back.
Lisbeth returns with a large mug filled with coffee that smells like home. Their entire shop oozes a homey feel. Framed pictures of their children are plastered all over the walls. One is a pilot. Another is a teacher — the one I should thank for the coffee machine. The third is a simple farmer. Mark and Lisbeth are proud of all of them. They never talk about one without mentioning the other.
What would it feel like if I were raised in a normal family with normal parents like Lisbeth and Mark? I wouldn’t be a shameful existence. I would even have a successful career. A family. I could bring a coffee machine to my mother at Christmas and she can give it to the southerner girl.
Stop dreaming, Zoe.
“Will you read to the children today?” Lisbeth asks in a thick northern accent.
“Of course.” I take a sip of coffee. Homemade. Yummy. “I’ve been debating on which story to read.”
“You southerners always overthink things.” She grins. “Live your life and forget about choices.”
If only it was that easy.
I smile back at Lisbeth. I don’t know if it’s because of the wrinkles or the short, whitening hair, but she reminds me so much of Nonna. The only light in Shadow’s darkness. I often wonder how she’s doing. I didn’t get to say goodbye, but I wish I saw her one last time on that day everything went to hell.
After an easy chat with Mark and Lisbeth, I thank them for the coffee and do my usual grocery shopping in town. I find super cute girls’ dresses and I can’t help but fall in love.
I hope I have a baby girl.
Unable to resist, I buy the dress and yellow shoes with adorable little bunnies. I’m grinning like an idiot as I climb the stairs to the house.
New life. Just me and my baby.
“Good morning, Zoe.”
I freeze mid-step. The grocery bag drops from my hand and hits the wooden floor with a clank.
The source of the voice stands at the corner of my porch.
Ghost.
He’s wearing one of his usual suits and his posture is straight but not uptight. A hint of exhaustion appears in the lines of his face. There’s something different about him, though. It’s his eyes. They used to be calculative and mysterious, but now, the dark brows seem as if they’re sad?
That doesn’t make any sense. Ghost is basically the leader of Le Salon. I often heard his name floating around, but I never thought that Julian and Ghost were the same person until he told me.
We agreed to cut off all contact then. The fact that he’s standing on my house — his house’s — porch, is concerning, to say the least.
Maybe he’s here on Shadow’s behalf. He’s his friend after all. Another jolting thought hits me.
Did Ghost come with Shadow to take me?
My gaze shifts sideways as I step back.
I don’t know why I expect the devil to come out and snatch me to the darkness. My heart is thundering like it’s about to burst open, but to my horror, it isn’t all because of dread. A warm burst of anticipation fills me to the core.
“He’s not here,” Ghost says as if reading my mind. “I gave you my word.”
I eye him peculiarly, still not trusting why he showed up.
He reaches for the grocery bag lying on the floor. I snatch and hold it close to my chest. “Is there something you want?”
My tone isn’t supposed to be biting. I shouldn’t provoke Ghost. What if he’s here to kick me out of this house? I still didn’t form a clear course of