bChapter /bb55/bb: /bbLa /bbPOV /b

    The bell above the door jingles softly as I step into Beantree, but the familiar warmth of the coffee shop doesn’t hit me the way it usually does. My face must betray the storm raging inside, because Tessa’s head snaps up from behind the counter, her sharp eyes locking onto mine.

    There’s a new trainee barista who I’ve not been introduced to standing behind the counter, ringing up a customer. This allows Tessa to rush around the counter at me with her arms held open and a concerned look in her eyes.

    “What’s wrong?” she asks, her voice soft but urgent as she pulls me into a tight embrace. The familiar scent of vani and orange clings to her, grounding me in a way I didn’t realize I needed until this moment. Her hug is warm, steady, and I lean into it for a second longer than I mean to, soaking up thefort.

    Pulling back, I nce around the shop, my eyes darting to the handful of customers scattered at tables, sipping their drinks or tapping away onptops. Thest thing I want is to get Tessa in trouble for cking off because I’m having an existential crisis. The shop’s steady hum feels distant, like I’m hearing it through a fog. I scan for anyone who might overhear, any prying ears that might catch the mess I’m about to unload.

    Tessa, as perceptive as ever, catches on immediately. Without a word, she takes my hand and leads me to the furthest table in the back, tucked beside the hallway to the public bathrooms. It’s the least popr spot in Beantree, and for good reason–nobody wants to bsip /btheirtte to the soundtrack of flushing toilets and roaring hand dryers. I’d be a hypocrite to judge the customers for avoiding it, since I’d do the same if I were here to rx.

    But it’s perfect in the here and now as I need a moment of solitude and a shoulder to cry on.

    Without a word, she pushes me into one of the chairs and returns behind the counter. Closing my eyes, I shut the world and its noise out for a few minutes, attempting to find calm in this storm they call my life. The shop’s rtively quiet as the lunch rush has passed, and it’s now that sweet–spot where there’s a steady stream of customersing in, but not many sitting down.

    Tessa returns a few minutester, bncing two steaming cappinos, the foam artfully swirled on top. She sets one in front of me, the rich aroma of espresso mingling with the faint sweetness of milk, and slides into the chair across from me. Her expression shifts, and in that no–nonsense “mommy voice I’ve heard her use with Mason over the phone, she says, “Start talking.”

    And I do. Everyst detail since I left herest night after my shift pours from me like a dam that has finally burst after a torrential storm. bI /bcensor some of the intimate moments I’ve shared with the guys, but she gets the gist and doesn’t ask me to borate.

    As I finish my sob story with me getting my car and driving here, she sits back and looks at me for a few minutes. It’s not a look of judgment or pity. It’s a contemtive look. Like she’s piecing a puzzle together in her head so bwe /bcan find a solution for all my troubles. I wish her good luck with that, however.

    “You’ve been busy,” she says with a yful smile, and I can’t help but chuckle at her attempt to lighten the dismal mood that’s descended around us in our private little nook.

    At her words, I suddenly realize that she’s right. It’s only been a few days since I discovered all four guys knew each other and live together.

    bSince /bthen, so much has happened. Good and bad. Looking back on all those moments, my life feels like a poorly scripted soap opera. The next thing I know, a dead rtive will be resurrected from the grave to try and take over the world. Gah.

    Tessa suddenly sits forward, cing her elbows on the table, looking me in the eye to ensure I’m listening. “You’reing to stay with me.” She holds up her pointer finger to shush me when I go to protest. “Just for the time being, at least. That gives you time until the whole sale of the house debacle has bees sorted to try and find something more permanent. It doesn’t make sense for you to spend your hard–earned savings on a ridiculous notion like an Airbnb when I’ve got ban /bunused spare bedroom gathering dust”

    “I can’t impose on you and Mason,” I hedge because it feels like I’m taking advantage of her kindness if I take her up on the offer.

    “P,” she huffs at me, “Nonsense. Mason will love the extra bpair /bof hands that can y with him. You will also not offer to help pay the rent. If you pay your portion of the water and electricity, and agree to babysit Mason a few times a month, then I expect you to move in tonight”

    She ends her decree with a self satisfied grin that has me shaking my head at her with a tender smile. This woman is an absolute saint and my guardian angel, it bseems /b

    Knowing I won’t win this battle, I reach over the small table and take her hand “Thank you, Tessa I don’t know what I’d do without you. I’ll also help clean baround /bthe house as a further thank you.” I pay with resolve, unwilling to concede this point because I will not be seen as a freeloader,

    “Fine,” she says as she rolls her eyes at rue, causing us both tough softly

    Chapter 55: La POV

    The rest of the afternoon at Beantree passes in a gentle blur, the kind of rhythm that soothes the jagged edges of my earlier turmoil. I finger in the coffee shop, chatting with the regrs. When the evening rush starts to pick up, I slip behind the counter to help the new trainee barista, frothing milk band /bpulling expresso shots with a practiced ease. The familiar motions ground nie, and my smilese more naturally now, less forced than they were when I first walked in The weight of the morning’s mncholy lifts, not entirely gone but lighter.

    Tessa’s shift ends at 6 pm, and since she’s not working thete hours tonight, we decide to head to her small townhouse just a few blocks away. The walk is brisk, the early evening ait cool against my skin, and we talk about nothing in particr her favorite new coffee blend, the ridiculous customer bwho /basked for a decaltte with six shots of espresso. It’s easy,forting, and by the time we reach her ce, I feel a little more like myself.

    Mason is ecstatic to have a new roommate his words, not mine of a new and unknown situation warm my heart.

    that can y, color, and build blocks with him. His youthful exuberance and eptance

    I help Tessa with dinner, chopping vegetables while she stirs a pot of creamy tomato soup, the kitchen filling with theforting aroma of garlic and bbasil/b. And while she’s bathing Mason, I clean up the kitchen. When she puts him to bed, he calls me into the room, insisting I also listen to the bedtime story she’s about to read him. Tessa tries to give me an out by telling Mason I’m tired and most likely want to get to bed.

    In response, I bound over to them and plop myself down on the floor with my back against the side of his bed. Máson smiles at me as if I had just hung the moon for him, while Tessa pats my shoulder tenderly from her perch next to him against the headboard.

    That night, as Iy in my new temporary bed, I think back on everything that happened today, and a bittersweet feeling settles over me. But it doesn’t leave me dejected. It gives me the courage to start tomorrow afresh.

    Picking up my phone, I start a group chat with the guys even Xavier to let them know where I am and that I’m safe.

    La: Staying at Tessa’s for a while. I have my own room and will help around the house as a thank you.

    Hunter: Hey, Beautiful. I’m d you’re around people who care for you. Please stay safe.

    Al: Cupcake, we miss you. Let us know if you need anything.

    Cade: Sleep tight, Sunshine. We’ll see you in our dreams iwinky /iemoji

    Xavier: We’ll figure everything out. Together.”

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