In the month since I last saw Gavin, I’ve been shocked to see that in spite of all the pain in my soul, and my heart — pain that makes me feel like I’m constantly struggling to move through water — life seems to go on for other people.

I texted him once or twice. Oh, who the hell am I trying to fool? I texted him at least ten times. He never replied. So, not only do I get to know he cared so little about me that he walked out once he saw the sordid past I dragged with me to Tanner Springs. I also get to feel the complete humiliation of me begging him to come back and him completely ignoring me.

Like a fool, I even considered going to the clubhouse. But I realized I no longer have the right to be there.

Sam stopped by the Golden Cup once to see me. I think she was trying to be nice. But it was just awful, and awkward, and the two of us were both trying to avoid the huge elephant in the room the whole time. She ended up getting her coffee to go and squeezing my hand, saying she was sorry and that she was sure things would work out between Gavin and me, somehow.

It’s not going to work out.

For about a week, I was still afraid Devon would come back. But the days passed, and there was no sign of him, I eventually realized I was safe. And it’s all because of Gavin.

I should have trusted him. I should have told him about Devon’s texts from the beginning.

I will regret that decision for the rest of my life.

In blackjack, it’s all about risk taking, and mitigating risk. Even when you’re counting cards. If you’re good at counting, you can beat the odds, but you always have to weigh that against the fact that people are watching all the time for card counters, and that even when you count, you still don’t have the complete picture.

I’ve spent my life sizing people up. Taking risks, but not exposing myself. It’s a game my father taught me. It’s ingrained in me.

This? Letting myself be seen for who I am? Letting someone else in on my vulnerabilities? I’m not used to it. Even with Devon I never did it. I hate that I let myself be that vulnerable.

But I hate even more that not doing it with Gavin soon enough lost me the best thing I ever had.

In the weeks that follow, I interview and train new workers, many of whom are high school students referred by Hailey. I try not to pay attention to Beverly and Bradley’s budding romance. Or Hailey and Teddy’s.

It feels like relationships are blooming all around me. Almost like someone’s playing a sick joke to mess with my head.

Beverly and Hailey both seem to sense there’s something off with me. But they have the kindness not to ask too many questions.

I wish in a way that I hadn’t hired any new people. Because the only thing keeping my mind off Gavin these days is work. And even though I really needed more staff, now I have less work to occupy my days. The hours stretch in front of me and I don’t know how to fill the time between waking and going to bed. I’m practically jumping out of my skin.

Months ago, I came to Tanner Springs because I wanted a new start. A new life, away from Atlantic City. I wanted everything to be fresh.

But my past caught up with me, and ended up ruining what I had built anyway. Just not in the way I expected.

It’s late afternoon on a Friday, and I’m getting ready to leave the shop for the day. Hailey and one of my new employees, Jamison, are going to be closing up tonight. Jamison is one of Hailey’s classmates, and also plays guitar in a band. He’s trying to convince me to start doing live music on the weekends, saying that the young people of Tanner Springs would come here in droves if I did.

“You’d only have to let them pass around a tip jar,” he’s telling me, his young face earnest. “You don’t need to pay them at all. And think about all those people coming in and ordering coffee drinks and food. You’d be making serious coin!”

“That’s a whole other ball game from what I’m doing now,” I protest. “That means stocking a lot more baked goods, and maybe even sandwiches and bagels and things like that. I’m not sure I’m quite there yet.” Truth be told, I have been thinking about starting to offer lunch items, but I’ve been putting it off. “And what about the crowds? I’m not sure having a bunch of rowdy high schoolers in here on a Friday night is a great idea.”

Next to Jamison, Hailey snorts. “They’re hardly going to be rowdy. Jamison’s band plays folk and bluegrass music. The worst thing that could happen is someone will get their eye poked out by a flying banjo string.”

The idea of taking on a new project sounds exhausting to me right now. I can barely function as it is, even as I find myself wishing I had something to occupy my mind twenty-four seven so I’d never have a chance to think about Gavin. Still, I have to admit Jamison’s idea is a good one. Most of the people who come to the shop in the late afternoons and evenings are kids their age anyway. It might be worth giving them something other than coffee to attract more of them.

“Tell you what,” I say, leaning against the front counter. “I’m willing to give this a shot. But for now, let’s keep it low key. We can do a Thursday night, starting sometime next month. No advertising to promote it. And no group. Just you, Jamison, on solo guitar. Let’s see how the patrons like it. If it goes over well, then I’ll think about making it a regular thing.”

Jamison breaks into a face-splitting grin. “I can do that,” he says.

“Okay,” I nod. “We’ll work out the details later. I’ll look at the calendar for next month and get back to you on the date. And of course, this would be outside of your regular work schedule.”

“Yeah, of course.” He bobs his head in agreement. “And thanks, Sydney. This is a great opportunity.”

Hailey pumps her fist and holds up her hand to high-five Jamison. I can’t help but laugh; their excitement is contagious.

Behind me, the bell on the front door tinkles. I push away from the counter and stand up. “Okay, you guys, I’m gonna take off. Let me know if you need anything, but I’m assuming you’ve got this. Hailey, it’s your job to train Jamison on how to close. If anything’s left undone when I come in tomorrow, it’s on you.”

Hailey nods, but her eyes slip from mine to rest on a spot over my shoulder. They flick back to me uncertainly.

“Do you, um…” she stammers, “want me to take this order, or do you want to?”

I frown at her and turn around.

Facing me on the other side of the counter is Gavin.

“The usual,” he says.