Page 12 of Dark Rapture
“Of course,” I respond, setting my drink down and reaching out to gently touch her hand in greeting. “I’m so sorry I’m late.”
She smiles again, but it’s weak. “That’s okay. I’m just glad to see a friendly face.”
“How are you holding up?” I ask her, before lifting my drink and wrapping my hands around the warm, dark brown mug. I lean down slightly to blow across the surface, the pretty swirl of cinnamon sugar partially sinking beneath the rippling surface thanks to the gentle force of my breath.
“It’s been horrible, Selene,” she begins, setting down her drink and dropping her head into her hands. “Connor is posting all over his socials about going to clubs and partying with his friends, like this break up doesn’t bother himat all.”
Her voice has a distinct quiver to it, and the sound breaks my heart. “Oh, Ari. I’m so sorry. Men tend to cope with their emotions a lot differently than we do,” I tell her, hoping to make her feel better about the terrible way he’s handling things. “But still, he’s definitely being a giant asshole.”
She laughs softly at my insult, lifting her head to regard me with teary eyes. “I feel like I can’t stop crying over him, and he is just glad to be single and free of me.”
“He lost the best thing to ever walk into his life, and is probably using partying nonstop to ignore his feelings.”
“You think so?” she asks, watching me closely.
“For sure. He probably drinks so he doesn’t have to deal with his own shit,” I say with a smile.
She laughs again, though it doesn’t do much to mask her sadness. I watch as she lifts her cup of coffee to her lips for a sip.
I wish I could say more to comfort her, but I’m not the most experienced person when it comes to real relationships. I’ve had a few casual hook-ups that were short term and not serious, and that is about the extent of it. I didn’t feel much of anything when we decided to go our separate ways, because I never felt the need to make deep and lasting connections with men.
Thinking about it now, I realize that it’s likely a result of my abuse. My uncle is probably the reason several of my wires have gotten crossed growing up. If that cruel man taught me anything, it’s that even the most seemingly safe relationships can turn out to be dangerous.
As a child, you never expect a member of your own family to hurt you the most.
I give my head a subtle shake, abandoning my selfish thoughts and turning my focus back on my friend. “I’m sorry, Ari. This is a shit situation, and it is going to hurt like hell for a while, but I promise you something better is coming your way.”
“I hope so,” she says quietly as she takes another long sip, and I mirror her action.
The aromatic coffee warms me as I drink it down, soothing and familiar, its cinnamon scent reminding me of cold winter days spent reading a good book right here in this shop. I used to come here to spend an hour or two after a leisurely walk around my city neighbourhood.
“What about you?” she asks me in between sips. “How are things at work?”
I wince, then laugh softly. “Mr. Kline has me sorting and shelving his most recent order of books. The boxes are massive, and the back room is stuffed floor to ceiling.”
“That man has an addiction,” she says with a smile, and I nod in agreement.
“An addiction I’m paying for. I’m going to be sick of hauling stacks of books around by the time the week is over,” I confess, slightly exasperated.
I don’t bother telling her about the entity I encountered last night. She wouldn’t believe me, anyway. I’m not actually certain that anyone would, except maybe my witchy friend Talise. A priest might believe me, too. Maybe I should pay a visit to the church around the corner from my apartment. See if they happen to employ an exorcist or something, ideally someone that can come bless my apartment.
Arianna tells me a little more about her break up with Connor, but then we settle into lighter conversation about our plans for this coming winter. We drink our coffees slowly, just enjoying each other’s company, until the sun slips behind a heavy cloud and someone approaches our little table.
Arianna sees him first as he wanders up from behind where I’m sitting, an odd expression on her face. Feeling a heavy presence at my back, I frown and turn to face whatever she is looking at.
A stranger.
Staring at me with a blank expression.
“Did you need something?” Arianna asks, setting her nearly empty coffee mug down.
He says nothing. He just continues to stare at me. I shoot a confused glance to Arianna, then look back at the stranger. He has dirty blonde hair, brown eyes, and is wearing cargo pants and a black hooded sweater. There’s nothing special about him, except for the empty look in his eyes.
He reminds me of the guy that frightened me on my bus ride home from my parent’s house. It’s unnerving the way he is staring at me so intensely, while his face remains expressionless and he stands as still as a mannequin. Instantly, I am extremely uncomfortable, considering how frayed my nerves already are after last night’s paranormal encounter.
I stare at him, analyzing every detail of his features, until I am certain this is not the man from the bus. Two different men, but the same bizarre behaviour. What are the chances?
“Do you know this guy, Selene?” Arianna asks, but I can’t turn away from him to respond to her. I refuse to turn my back on him. Instead, I scoot my chair farther away from him and shake my head in response to her question.
