Page 38 of Versions Of Us

I nod. “I know.”

“Three dollars change,” she says as she places the gold coins in my palm.

“Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

I head for table sixteen, placing the plate down in front of the young woman. She eyes me warily.

“They’re complimentary,” I tell her.

“I’m not hungry,” she counters rudely.

“Take them home for your friend then.” I shrug, then continue on my way out the door and onto the street.

I cross the road and look back to where the young woman is seated behind the café window, just in time to see her pick up the sandwich and take a large, voracious bite.

Chapter 15

HENLEY

“It’s good seeing you back here.”

I jump, agitated by the voice behind me. When I turn abruptly, I’m suddenly face to face with my father. His smile is sad, but the weight in my chest lifts slightly when I see the relief he wears in his expression.

There are two entrances to the loft above Steve’s Tavern. One from the inside, behind the tiny office down the hall from the bar, and the other an external staircase than can be accessed from around the back. Given the tavern hasn’t yet opened for the day, I assume he must have taken the back route and that I must have been stuck too deep in my own head to hear his footsteps coming.

“Dad,” I manage to choke through the overwhelming emotion.

He reaches out to draw me in for a hug and I can’t help that my initial reaction is to flinch. I’m on edge all the time these days.

“Hey, you alright?” Dad asks, sensing my discomfort.

“Yeah. Just getting used to everything.” I step away from him, my fingers raking through my messy hair. “You know. Being back here.”

It’s nine in the morning. I’ve literally been back for less than six hours. We’d arrived at my dad’s place just after three and crashed in the loungeroom, leaving before he woke. I’m operating on about two hours sleep but coming into Steve’s before opening was on the top of my priority list for one reason only.

I wanted to arrive when it was empty. To avoid the judgements, the stares. To allow myself a chance to prepare for all that would surely come at me within the next few hours.

“I understand.” Dad nods. I hate the helplessness that mars his face. I hate that he pities me. “But if you’re ever not alright, you know I’m always here. If you need to talk.”

Talking is the last thing I want to do right now but I know he means well, so I nod regardless and then turn my attention back to the broom in my hands.

“Where’s the girl?” he asks.

“She went to get us some cleaning products from the grocery store.” I’m relieved she isn’t here right now. That I get to have this moment alone with my dad.

“She okay?” he asks. He plants his hands on his hips and surveys the dimly lit space.

“Yeah. She’s tough. I think she’s probably doing better than I am.” I manage a small smile, but it doesn’t meet my eyes.

Dad huffs out a short laugh. “So, you think this place will be okay for a while?”

I scan the empty loft, its boarded-up windows and exposed brick, the half an inch of dust coating the storage boxes that seem to stretch on for miles. Steve only ever used the loft to store old junk, although with a little love, it could be an amazing studio apartment.

“It’s fine,” I tell him. “Just needs a bit of work. Nothing I can’t handle.”

It’s not like I have much choice. When I disappeared, so did the lease on the house I was renting. Until I get back on my feet financially, I don’t have much chance of finding another rental.

“Have you spoken to your mother?” he asks, widening his stance, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck.

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