Closing Time

33.

Keeping a secret is depressing. Maybe not for me at this point with my stunted emotions, but clearly for Trace. Especially if it's a secret that's in plain sight and you can't do anything to quash the curiosity it incites within you.

Actually, seems like it's depressing for me too. I hate not knowing stuff. I could barely make out the tattoo enough to figure out it's features beyond lines and circles. That left an internet search out of the question and the only person who could tell me about it wasn't clearly too scarred to do so.

Another unending circle, first with the demons and angels, and then my own boyfriend.

While the day we spent inside at my place was peaceful, and nice, and therapeutic almost- my eyes would stray towards the side of his head in moments of silence. He caught me staring a few times, but he just rolled his eyes or threw me a tired glare. Whatever he did, it all meant that he wasn't going to be spilling the beans in it anytime soon.

He was still sleeping when I left his place after my day off. Atleast he'd been understanding enough about my trauma. I usually found it pretty hard to let people into my private space. It was only after I'd worked with Dottie and Sasha for about six months that I'd called them over. It had been absolutely impromptu and completely on the spot so I wouldn't have time to think about what I'm doing. That's the only way I could invite people over now, apart from trusting them... or the uninvited guests I seemed to keep having.

Dottie wasn't around when I walked into the restaurant. She emerged from the kitchen with a few trays full of food as I settled behind the bar. I was a bit late. The lunch rush had started already and my regulars were seated at the bar. I didn't really get a chance to talk to Dottie till after everyone had left.

Sasha walked out of the kitchen with sandwiches and fries for the two of us. He was nice enough to also make shakes to wash it all down.

"Thanks, Sasha." I mumbled through the thick chocolate shake in my mouth. "This really hits the spot."

"I'm glad it does." He laughed, slapping my back and almost making me spit out whatever I'd just swallowed. "Either you've suddenly started liking my food or you've finally got an appetite these days."

I rolled my eyes, reaching for a fry. "I've been working out a lot lately."

Dottie snickered, pointing her fry at me.  "You youngsters call it 'working out' these days?" I raised an eyebrow as she continued. "I know you came in a cab. You were with Trace."

"Yeah, so?" I shrugged easily, chomping down on a few more fries. "I could finally call him over for dinner. Atleast that's off my chest."

"Ah, yes. I forget you have tu-rauma." Sasha nodded sagely. "I am proud of you. It took us six months, and Trace barely six weeks."

"One month actually." I replied right before chomping down on the burger. "I was wabing for Hallo-been to finish."

"Oh, yeah. Good idea." Dottie paused to take a dainty bite of a sloppy burger and wipe her mouth. "How was it? The entire night?"

"Oh." I nodded slowly, swallowing. "I met him at my building. We made dinner, watched something random, went to bed. Nothing much."

"What was his reaction at seeing your place?" Dottie's eyes twinkled. "That's what I really want to know."

"I bet." The burger suddenly lost its taste as I bit down. "The sabe as you guys."

"Very, very big surprise." Sasha mumbled to himself.

"That and disbelief, denial, confusion, worry, suspicion... For a very long time after that, I thought you're a mobster's mistress or something."

Somehow, she's not far off. "Nah." I shrugged easily, trying to figure out a way to change the topic. "My friend rents it out to me. He comes back to the country now and then and comes to visit."