Not yet.
The morning became busy.
The diner filled with people.
A family stopped for breakfast.
Three construction workers took booth four.
A traveling salesman complained about the bacon.
Mara moved constantly.
Coffee.
Eggs.
Toast.
Checks.
Refills.
Smile.
Apology.
Smile.
Apology.
At ten thirty, the crowd began to thin.
Rex finished his breakfast.
He left a twenty-dollar bill beneath his coffee cup.
When he stood, Mara looked up.
“Thank you.”
Rex nodded.
He walked toward the door.
Then stopped.
He turned around.
Mara was wiping the counter.
He looked at her face.
She froze.
For a second, neither spoke.
Rex said quietly, “You don't have to tell me anything.”
Her eyes widened.
“I didn't—”
“I know.”
She looked toward the kitchen.
Wade wasn't there.
Rex continued.
“If you ever need somewhere to sit where nobody's going to ask questions, the clubhouse has a porch.”
Mara stared at him.
“You don't know me.”
“No.”
He paused.
“But I know what fear looks like.”
Her expression changed.
Only slightly.
Then she looked down.
“I’m fine.”
Rex nodded.
“I know.”
He walked out.
Mara watched the door close behind him.
She remained still for several seconds.
Then she whispered to herself, “I’m fine.”
But for the first time, the words sounded like a question.
That evening, Mara returned home at seven.
The house was quiet.
Wade's truck was in the driveway.
Her stomach tightened.
She parked behind him.
Before entering, she sat in her car for almost five minutes.
The steering wheel felt cool beneath her palms.
She stared at the front door.
Then she looked at the bruise reflected faintly in the rearview mirror.
She touched it.
Pain answered.
She pulled her hand away.
“Don't.”
She didn't know whether she was talking to the bruise or herself.
Inside, Wade was sitting in the living room.
Television on.
Beer open.
He didn't look at her.
“You're late.”
“I had to close.”
“I told you to be home by seven.”
“It was seven when I left.”
“It’s seven twenty.”
Mara looked at the clock.
7:21.
“I'm sorry.”
Wade finally turned toward her.
His eyes went to her face.
For a second, she thought he was going to say something about the bruise.
Instead he smiled.
It wasn't a kind smile.
“You covered it better today.”
Mara said nothing.
Wade stood.
“Come here.”
She remained where she was.
“Mara.”
She took one step.
Then another.
He lifted a hand.
She flinched.
His hand stopped.
A strange satisfaction appeared in his eyes.
“Still scared?”
“No.”
“Good.”
He lowered his hand.
“You know what your problem is?”
Mara stared at the floor.
“You make me angry.”
She said nothing.
“You always make me angry.”
Her fingers curled around the strap of her purse.
Wade stepped closer.
“Look at me.”
She did.
He studied her face.
Then he said, “Tomorrow, wear more makeup.”
Mara nodded.
“Okay.”
“And don't talk to those bikers.”
Her heart stopped.
She looked at him.
“What?”
“I saw them talking to you.”
“They ordered breakfast.”
“I said don't talk to them.”
“I wasn't—”
His hand hit the wall beside her head.
Mara jumped.
Wade leaned closer.
“You understand?”
“Yes.”
“Say it.”
“I understand.”
“Good.”
He walked away.
Mara remained against the wall.
Her legs felt weak.
She closed her eyes.
The bruise beneath her makeup throbbed.
But another thought had begun to form.
Wade had noticed Rex.
Which meant Rex had noticed them.
And that terrified her.
Because Wade was good at destroying things he could not control.
The next morning, Mara arrived early.
She hoped Rex wouldn't be there.
He was.
His motorcycle was parked outside.
Her stomach dropped.
She considered turning around.
Instead she entered through the side door.
The kitchen was empty.
She placed her bag in the staff room and stared at herself in the mirror.
The bruise looked worse.
She applied more concealer.
Then more foundation.
Then powder.
She stepped back.
Better.
Almost normal.
When she walked into the dining room, Rex was already at the counter.
He looked at her.
He didn't mention her face.
He didn't ask if she was okay.
He simply said, “Morning.”
“Morning.”
“Coffee?”
She nodded.
“Please.”
She poured it.
Her hand shook.
Rex covered her wrist gently with his hand.
She froze.
He immediately released her.
“Sorry.”
Mara stared at him.
He said, “I shouldn't have touched you.”
She looked down.
“No.”
Rex waited.
Then Mara whispered, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For letting go.”
Something moved behind Rex's eyes.
He nodded.
“You're welcome.”
She walked away.