Secrets Between Us.

- Chapter 2 -

IT was overwhelmingly crammed this morning – something about trying to escape from the tears which pelted from the heavens which has brought every lost soul inside. Just when I thought you couldn't possibly fit anyone else, the bell rung and two more people squeezed into the crowded space. Water fell from their raincoats adding to the growing pools on the floor and mud tracked in with their boots.

They brought with them added stiffness to the air but also brought menial complaints of how hopeless their lives were. The fact that the weather affected their moods this much was quite something and dare I say it, amusing. It often paved the way for them to feel compelled to let out their deepest, darkest thoughts. Of course, they thought no one was listening to them.

But I was.

I know you sabotaged your colleague's shot of getting that promotion, Frank. You really should get some help for that jealous streak you've been developing since your mistress left you.

A few moments earlier, I shrugged out of my coat and let the warmth of the café wash over me as if I was sinking into a steaming bath. It warmed my fingers right through to my toes. Now, I sat in the corner, my eyes skimming over the headlines of the creased newspaper in front of me.

The newspaper isn't mine – I don't subscribe to this rubbish.

The toe-rag must had been left behind in someone's rush to get out of the door. Like each and every day, there was nothing worthwhile reading. But yet again, if a journalist had even a grain of skill, they wouldn't be vying to write for this steaming pile of garbage.

I close the cover, toss it to the side and glance at my watch.

You would be here within five minutes if your past habits were anything to go by. And they will be because, like me, you don't like change.

You've been coming here for your coffee for the past seven months, always at the same time regardless of how mother nature was acting outside. The clouds could be the deepest shade of purple and threatening to flood the lands and you would still be here, dressed immaculately and acting as if everything was fine with the world.

The only difference is today, you will come to realise that I exist.

Today, you will meet me and realise that I'm not just another forgettable face in the sea of others.

As I wait, I unlock my phone and begin to filter through the torrent of emails and messages that have bombarded my inboxes. A lot of them appear to be from the usual suspects, desperate to offload or to have a shoulder to lean on and let the waterworks loose.

There is one that catches my eye – an invite to commemorate the third year of my aunts passing.

Now this doesn't come as a surprise. Every year, I receive the same email with the same details. Her suicide was ruled unsuspicious – case closed – and had come suddenly to us all. It left everyone with a lot of unanswered questions.

I mark this with a red flag, knowing that I would have to justify my absence if I decided not to go. She wasn't my favourite aunt, nor did I like her very much with her holier-than-thou attitude and distaste for my life choices. One could say that her death was good riddance for us all. But a family affair was a family affair after all, and there was an unspoken obligation for everyone to show their face.

My finger hovers above the next email as I hear the happy jingle of the bell over the low rumble of thunder outside. I look up from my seat and a smile creeps its way onto my lips.

You're right on time to your daily appointment with me, just as expected.

Rain has matted your hair and your cheeks glisten underneath the light. You apologise profusely as you brush against those around you, struggling to close the black umbrella you so desperately clutch in your hand.