Standing before Hilda's workplace, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. Memories of our friendship, which began in middle school, flooded my mind. After high school, our paths diverged - I got married, while Hilda pursued higher education, juggling multiple part-time jobs, just like I had done before my marriage.
As I hesitated at the entrance of the coffee shop, I wondered how Hilda would react to seeing me after two years of silence. I had wanted to reach out to her, but my brother had refused, citing concerns that Liam might pressure her into revealing my location. Now, as I took a deep breath and stepped inside, I felt a mix of emotions: guilt, anxiety, and hope.
The coffee shop was bustling, with a long line of customers waiting to be served. Hilda was bent over behind the counter, her dark hair tied back in a ponytail, as she expertly juggled multiple orders. Some customers were growing impatient, complaining loudly about the wait.
"Why's the line not moving?" one customer grumbled.
"Can't you go faster? I have exams!" another chimed in.
"Why are you so slow? Why isn't the company hiring more staff?" a third customer complained.
Hilda's response was calm and professional, but I could sense her frustration. "I'm sorry, folks. I'm doing my best."
This coffee shop was renowned for being the best in the area, but it was also infamous for its notoriously long lines. Despite its popularity, the coffee shop had fallen into disarray since the owner's passing. Her children, who had inherited the business, seemed to have lost interest in maintaining its original standards. As a result, the manager was left to run the shop as he saw fit, with little oversight or accountability.
One of the most glaring issues was the chronic understaffing. On a busy day like today, there should have been at least three employees manning the counter, but sadly, Hilda was the only one struggling to keep up with the demand. The manager's decision to skimp on staff had resulted in a bottleneck, with customers growing increasingly frustrated as they waited in line.
As I watched, Hilda expertly juggled multiple orders, her hands moving swiftly as she worked to prepare drinks and manage the cash register. Despite her best efforts, the line continued to grow, with customers starting to get restless. The atmosphere in the coffee shop was tense, with the air thick with frustration and disappointment,
Yet, no one was leaving, and tomorrow, they would come again. That was how good the coffee was.
"Permit me to assist, Miss," I said, stepping forward to help Hilda with the growing line of customers.
At the sound of my voice, Hilda's head jolted in my direction, her eyes widening in shock. She was taken aback by the sight of me, her mouth hanging open in surprise. For a moment, she forgot about the cup she was holding, and coffee overflowed, the hot liquid spilling onto her hand and she sucked in breath.
I winced at the sight of the coffee spilling onto Hilda's skin, knowing how painful the burn must be. "Careful," I said instinctively, pulling out a few serviette to dab at the spill.
"Step aside, I'll handle the customers," I instructed, gently taking Hilda's place behind the counter.
Hilda's eyes locked onto mine, her expression a mix of shock, surprise, and confusion. She looked like she had seen a ghost, and I couldn't blame her. It had been two years since we last spoke, and I had changed so much.
"Where have you been?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why did you disappear?"
I couldn't answer. My jaw clenched, my heart pounding in my chest as I handed a customer his coffee and collected the money from him. I couldn't meet Hilda's gaze, couldn't bear to see the hurt and betrayal in her eyes.
Instead, I focused on serving the customers, trying to compose myself as I worked, trying to let my smile look genuine. But Hilda's questions hung in the air, unanswered and unspoken. I knew I had to face her eventually, to explain my disappearance and apologize for the pain I had caused. But for now, I just couldn't find the words.
Hilda seemed to sense my unease and stopped asking questions, instead focusing on helping me serve the remaining customers. With two of us working together, the line moved more quickly, and the atmosphere in the coffee shop began to relax.
As the hours passed, the crowd thinned, and eventually, Hilda flipped the sign on the door to "Closed". She let out a sigh of relief, her shoulders sagging slightly as she leaned against the counter.
The silence between us stretched on for more minutes but it was no longer tense. Instead, it felt like a comfortable silence, one that spoke of familiarity and shared understanding.
Hilda looked up at me, her eyes searching mine. I could sense the questions still lingering in her mind, but she didn't ask them. Instead, she smiled softly and said, "Let's talk."
I nodded, finding a seat at a small table by the window. Hilda brought over two cups of coffee, along with a plate of pastries she had reserved for us.
She set the cups down in front of us, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. I wrapped my hands around the cup, feeling the warmth seep into my skin.
Hilda sat down across from me, her eyes locked onto mine. We sat in silence for a moment, sipping our coffee and savoring the quiet.
The tension between us had dissipated, replaced by a sense of comfort and familiarity. It was as if no time had passed at all, and we were back to our old routine of sharing coffee and conversation.
But I knew that wasn't true. Two years had passed, and I had changed. I had secrets, and scars, and stories to tell. And Hilda deserved to hear them.
"I had a miscarriage," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I stared out the window, watching the people walk by on the street as I continued. "It meant nothing to him. He only cared about Zoey, and I wasn't strong enough for that anymore."