*James*

Another night that Julia doesn't come down to the hotel lobby. I don't understand her at all or why she's avoiding me like this. We were friends before the stupid kiss. She's just gonna ignore me forever after hanging out with me for hours on end every single night? Something weird is going on with her.

Pretty soon, I'm just gonna give up.

I spend the night doing Paul's dirty work. The 4th floor has been keeping him busy, which means I'm busy checking celebrities in anonymously while also manning the front desk.

Tonight, there's a youth tennis team staying here, and I swear every single mother is a Karen. If you understand the term "Being a Karen," you'll know exactly what I mean! Complaining about the smallest things. Why we don't have oat milk at the coffee bar, only half and half, milk or cream. The coffee is free, Karen. If you want a custom-made oat milk latte, then find a Starbucks.

The daughters are just as bad! One came down complaining about the hotel conditioner not working well with her hair. Again, it's free. There's a Target right up the road if you need something better.

All I can do is fake a smile and keep plugging through the night. It would be much easier if I had Julia down here keeping me company. She would come down like a lost puppy with these sad eyes who lost her hotel key for a trillionth time. She makes me laugh. But I really need to stop thinking about her. Clearly, she's lost interest, even as a friend. Which kinda stinks since who knows how long she will be in town.

*****

*Trisha*

I sit at the usual table Nate, and I sit at in the small café, alone tonight. I take over the whole table with my laptop and Nate's bills that need to get paid, along with some contracts that he needs to look over before the deadlines.

I'm in over my head. I may put on a good show like I can get everything done, but most nights, I'm struggling to check off everything on the daily to-do list by midnight.

Tonight, I sit here drinking my tea, with the whole café to myself. It's peaceful and the owners are always grateful for their customers. I'm sure they are struggling since the new Starbucks was built right across the road.

I plug in the numbers, make the appointments, pay the bills, and schedule the meetings. I'm on a roll when I hear the café door open.

I look over and quickly turn my head back to the screen. But it wasn't quick enough.

"Trish. I thought that was your car parked out there. "

I freeze, almost unable to look up at the man. His voice sends pins and needles down my spine and my mouth suddenly feels dry. My pulse starts racing on top of it all.

"It's been a minute. How are you? You look good." He says.

He looks good, too. A human Ken doll.

But why is he here? He was transferred to Seattle a while ago.

I look up and make eye contact with Dave and watch him sit down across from me. I can't seem to form words. I just stare.

"Hey, I know things didn't end well..."

"Why are you here, Dave?" I manage to push out the sentence, feeling the words come out shaky.

"I'm in town for a little while in a project. I was just stopping in to grab a decaf before I headed back to my hotel." He looks down at my mess of paperwork and folders and binders surrounding me and my laptop.

"Hollan's still keeping you busy, I see."

I swallow hard and start to gather all the papers up so I can get the hell out of here. Being around him isn't good for me. At all. Dave sees me fumbling around and takes my hand to stop me. I look down at him, touching my hand and pull away fast.

"Hey. You stay. I'll go. I'm making you uncomfortable. Listen, Trish. I just want to let you know I'm getting help. You don't have to be scared of me."

"I'm NOT scared of you."

"Then why is your hand trembling?" Dave nods at my right hand, clearly shaky while holding Nate's Financials folder. I drop the folder and clasp my hands together, putting them in my lap under the table. Dave can't see me nervous.

I don't answer him. But he doesn't leave. Instead, Dave sits back in the booth and makes himself comfortable, keeping his eyes on me at the same time.

"I've been sober for 5 months." He says softer. If that's actually true, that's huge for him. I raise my eyebrows in disbelief.

"Wow. That's great. I'm happy for you." I reply dryly.

"I even go to those meetings..."

"Good. You should." I don't give in to him.

"Trish, we were friends before we were together. I enjoyed your friendship." The waitress brings over Dave's to-go cup, and he stares down at it for a few seconds. "I miss you."

"I'm sorry. I have to go." I quickly swipe up all the papers and jam them into one folder, not caring that each have their own organized binder. I'll fix it later. Right now, I need to leave this place. Dave just stares at me and nods as I shove everything into my bag and close my laptop, hurrying out of the cafe, not caring about my tea at this point.

Whenever I feel anxious like this, I usually sit in my car for a breather, but my luck, Dave will follow me. The minute I get in my car, I drive, not caring where I'm going, so long as I'm not near him.

My heart is still racing, so I pull over to the nearest gas station to pull myself together.

It's been a little while since I've seen my ex. But every time I do, I fall into his trap. I don't know why. Nate says he's my addiction. I hate that. There's no way I'm telling Nate that Dave is in town. He has enough on his plate to worry about.

I'm hopeful that Dave is telling the truth. Working on his life, sober, and going to AA meetings.

Because the sober Dave is the man I was about to marry before "drunk Dave" took over.