Ain’t been outta Sam’s much, but today I gotta break loose. Walls are tight—cold, empty, nothing like home—and my head’s a mess, job rejections stacking up like bricks. Only so much “no” a guy can take before it’s a damn weight, dragging me down, this dull ache in my gut that won’t quit. Stuck here, nowhere to go, feels like a trap with no exit.
Snag my jacket off the chair, slip it on fast and quiet. Sam’s in the other room—sleeping or glued to the TV, don’t know, don’t care. Just don’t want him hearing, asking where I’m headed. Got no answers to give. Slip out into the morning, wind biting my face, sharp and cold. Street’s dead—empty, gray, like always.
Town’s a slab of nothing today, heavier than usual, clouds pressing low like they’re mocking me, making me feel small, lost in this nowhere place. Wind’s got teeth, slicing through, but I don’t give a shit—just need to move. Legs carry me to Casey’s coffee shop, same spot I hit every day back when things made sense. Tell myself it ain’t about her—just need warmth, a flicker of normal—but deep down, I know better.
Push the door open, bell jangles overhead. Place is half-breathing—few folks at tables, mugs clinking, voices humming low. Keep my head down, dodge eyes, hoping I’m just a shadow here. Slide into a corner table, sink into the chair. Chalkboard menu’s up there, but I don’t read it—too tangled in my own head to care, just breathing, trying to hold it together.
Bell rings again. Don’t look—another nobody, I figure—but something tugs at me, heavy in the air. Glance up, and my breath snags hard. Alex. Standing in the doorway, jacket zipped tight, hands jammed in his pockets, scanning like he might bolt. Our eyes lock, and my heart slams to a stop.
Didn’t see this coming—not him, not now, not after everything went quiet. Thought he was gone for good, outta my life, but there he stands—same, but off. Hair’s still a mess, sketched it a million times, and those eyes—used to be my anchor—look beat, worn thin. He freezes too, caught like me, then starts over, slow, boots thudding on the wood.
“Hey,” he says, low and rough, like his voice ain’t been used in days. Stops by my table, and I can’t breathe right, can’t think—just stare. Manage a shaky “Hey” back, voice cracking like a damn kid. Wanna spill it all—miss you, believe me—but my throat’s knotted shut.
Shifts, awkward, eyes flicking to the empty chair. “Mind if I sit?” he asks, and it lands heavy, loaded. Nod quick—too quick, too desperate. He pulls it out, sits, and the table feels tiny, him too close, too far. Can’t stop looking—same Alex, but different. Lines deeper on his face, shoulders sagging, like the town’s grinding him down.
Don’t say nothing at first. Silence sits thick, pressing in. Mess with my sleeve, scrambling for words—he’s here, and it’s tearing me up we’re like this now, strangers. Wanna grab his hand, pull him back, but can’t. He ditched me, doubted me—still stings raw. But he’s here—means something, right?
“How’s Sam’s?” he asks, cracking the quiet, voice soft, careful—like he’s stepping on ice.
“Cold,” I say, sharp, clipped. “Ain’t home.” Look at him hard, wanting him to get it—his place was home, and I’m nowhere without it. Eyes twitch, but he don’t bite.
“Yeah,” he mutters, staring at the table. “Sam’s good, though. He’ll keep you straight.”
Nod slow, chest squeezing. “Don’t talk much. Gave me a bed.” Pause, then, “Better than nothing, I guess.” Want him to say it—come back, we’ll fix this—but he don’t. Just sits, quiet, and it’s killing me.
Waitress rolls by—some chick I don’t know. Alex orders a black coffee. I don’t get nothing—ain’t here for that, just here ‘cause I got nowhere else. Watch him stir it absently, hands shaky. Looks drained—bags under his eyes, shoulders low. Morgan’s screwing him, I know—Casey said inspections, legal bullshit. Wanna ask, help, be there like before, but don’t know how no more. He cut me loose, and I’m still hanging.
Silence drags, heavy and mean. Gotta break it. “Alex,” I start, leaning in, “why you here? If you don’t—” Swallow hard, can’t finish. “If you don’t want me around, why sit?”
Eyes snap up, caught, then soften—lost, like he don’t know me no more. “Dunno,” he says, low, quiet. “Saw you. Didn’t think.” Looks out the window, and my chest cracks open. Ain’t here for me—ain’t fixing this. Just drifting, while I’m sinking.
Nod slow, throat burning. “Okay,” I whisper, standing, legs wobbly. “Gotta go.” Push the chair back, can’t look at him—won’t. Catch one last glimpse—him watching, quiet as hell. Turn, hit the door, bell jangling behind me. Cold smacks my face, sharp and real. Hits me then, cold and clear—he ain’t saving me. Not now. Maybe never.