I hurried to get to work even though my world had basically shifted off its axis after meeting Derek — officially, that is. I think part of me was still in shock, and I dreaded the moment the full implications would hit.
The diner smelled like burnt coffee, fried onions, and the kind of hopelessness that clung to your clothes long after you left. Comforting, in a tragic way. I breathed in, relieved.
I pushed through the back door, tying my apron as I walked in, and spotted Mia wiping down the counter with the enthusiasm of someone who’d been here far too long. Literally. Despite the way she dresses — like a 20‑year‑old — she must be at least three times that age. We always joke that she must secretly be the owner of the diner and is bored, so she pretends to need this job. The way she g
