Chapter 8

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So sorry for not posting in like a million years! The 26 pages of content I had for this fic got corrupted and erased from my computer and I felt like crying, so I went through a brief phase where I didn't write anything out of spite.. And here I am!

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DAN POV

I roll my neck, feeling it crack repeatedly as I stretch it from side to side.  A memory of coming home to two strong hands that would rub my shoulders and back until the ache subsided flits through my mind. I close my eyes and savor it.

It's been a long day. No longer than any other, time-wise, but it feels like an eternity. I'm dying to get out of here, and when I glance at the clock, I sigh in relief as it's only five minutes until closing time. 

Sensing how tired I am, Bryony goes around and alerts the remaining customers that we'll be closing shop in a few minutes, and I wrap up the leftover pastries to sell half off tomorrow. We only have one raisin scone left and I decide to keep it for myself, not remembering the last time I ate. I slump down behind the counter as Bryony wipes the tables and allow myself a minute to unwind. I break off a portion of scone, and pop it into my mouth.

I can't help but smile, remembering Phil and how much he enjoyed what he bought earlier. Watching his eyes light up as he ate it made me really happy. Despite the long day and the near panic attack this morning, having the memory of Phil smiling seems to cancel out all the terrible parts. If only a smile could solve all of my problems.

I sigh, picking at the scone absently until I realize how hungry I actually am. Within a minute it's completely gone.

Standing up, I brush myself off and see that the cafe is completely empty, besides Bryony and myself. Even with the last minute preparations I need to do for tomorrow, I'll have enough to go home and shower before my evening plans. The thought of what's to come puts a smile on my face, and I find myself whistling as I take off my battered apron and hang it on the hook. These mood swings of mine are bound to give me whiplash, and it's a miracle I'm not completely insane yet.

Bryony says she'll finish up out front, so I grab the print out from the register and finish up some paperwork in my office. I turn on my iPod because I always work faster that way. I'm almost done with the receipts when the music switches and I'm no longer rocking out to Muse. Instead, it's Jason Mraz, and more specifically, the song that was played as I first danced with Phil at our wedding. I haven't heard this song in so long, I forgot about it.

I close my eyes as the lyrics wash over me, a bitter reminder of times long past.

I won't give up on us

Even if the skies get rough

The song continues, and I clench my eyes shut, both to stifle  the tears and so I can see the memories clearer.

I'm giving you all my love

I'm still looking up

I see the two of use clumsily spinning around the room, whispering nonsense to each other as our guests cheered and clapped for us. His cheeks are flared as red as mine as everyone demanded we kiss.

We had to learn how to bend without the world caving in

I had to learn what I've got, and what I'm not, and who I am

Warm hands clasped around me, stroking my back through the fabric. He started singing, off-key, into my ear. But at that moment his voice was the only one I heard, eclipsing Jason Mraz's.

Cause even the stars they burn

Some even fall to the earth

We've got a lot to learn

God knows we're worth it

No, I won't give up

The music continues, and I wipe away a stray tear and sniffle, keeping the rest at bay. At least I didn't have a complete meltdown this time. Progress.

I'm humming along, lost in the moment when Bryony's voice breaks through.

"You okay?" She asks

I nod absentmindedly

"You're different on the days he comes in," Bryony remarks, trying to figure out what to say. "Like there's a streak of happy through the stress."

I smile, but it's fleeting.

"It's just hard," I admit to Bryony.

"You're never going to be able to give him up, are you?" she asks, leaning against my desk.

"I don't think I could, even if I wanted to."

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