The Alpha's Hybrid

Two

PHOENIX

The bell jingled as I stumbled into Nature's Kitchen, my nerves spiking again. I gripped the edge of my graphic tee, running the fabric through my fingers, trying to steady my shaky hands.

I bounced on my toes, my fingers wriggling. My breath caught, and I cleared my throat, trying to focus. I began to count in my head, attempting to calm myself.

I visibly shrunk into myself as I looked around the almost full restaurant. I drew a shaky breath and quickly gravitated toward the kitchen—my place of work.

I had to steady myself to avoid crashing face-first when a pale leg shot out of nowhere, blocking my path.

The culprit: Kyra.

She stared at me, one perfectly arched eyebrow raised.

"You're late, Phoenix," she drawled, her rosy lips quirking with anger. I shrunk further into myself.

"I—I had to see my mom," I murmured, my stammer betraying me.

Kyra's cold blue eyes sparkled with glee at my fear, and I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. For reasons known only to her, she had sworn to conspire with everyone and everything—sometimes even with Mother Nature herself and my very clumsy moments—to make my already miserable existence even worse.

Kyra smirked, her strawberry-blonde tresses bouncing as she turned to face me fully.

"One would think you'd at least not ruin this—but it looks like you have a knack for destroying things," she mused.

"Just like you did two years ago," she continued.

And just like that, all the wind was knocked out of me.

My breath came in short pants. My vision blurred, salty tears obscuring my sight. I struggled to breathe, my hands flying to my throat. The room spun. I grabbed the nearest chair to steady myself.

"Get back to work, ladies."

My savior today came in the form of Caleb, stumbling in. He also doubled as my boss—and my friend.

I sighed, breathing deeply to steady myself as Kyra sauntered away in annoyance.

"Are you okay, Nixy? I've been calling you for a while now."

I looked over to see Caleb, my boss and best friend, looking worried. I must have zoned out.

"Nixy, are you okay?"

He always called me that. He claimed it was unique. To him, it simply was.

"Oh, I'm fine. Sorry I'm late, though. I just went to see Mom," I said, meeting his gaze.

The corners of his lips turned up in what I thought was pity, and my heart dropped.

"Any developments? Is she okay?" he asked, still looking worried. He passed me some water, gently leading me by the hand to take a seat, his shoulder-length brown locks bouncing.

My throat closed up. I cleared it subtly before responding.

"None yet. I'm alright, though. No need to fuss over me, really, Caleb," I said, not wanting him to worry.

"You look like you're coming down with something. Are you okay?" Caleb looked me over, his green eyes assessing me carefully. I kept breathing steadily so he wouldn't notice how nervous I was.

"You're so cold. Come into the kitchen for a moment. The heat should help warm you up. Have you had breakfast yet?" he rushed out all in one breath, his forehead wrinkling with concern.

"No, but I'm not—"

Caleb interrupted, anger flashing across his green eyes.

"Don't even say it. You promised me you wouldn't skip meals anymore, Nixy. I'm sure you made breakfast for your mom this morning, but you didn't have any yourself. What is wrong with you?" he fumed, his forehead creased in irritation.

"I did eat dinner last night, and I'm still full. I'm fine, Caleb. Just a little out of breath," I told him, hating that he worried over me.

"But—"

"No buts, Caleb. And during working hours, you're my boss, and I'm your employee. So let's serve the people their breakfast now, shall we? I can see three people already fuming that their food isn't ready yet. I'll just quickly take their orders and get them ready," I said all in one breath.

The last thing I needed was for him to ask about dinner. He'd really get mad at my answer.

I walked quickly into the kitchen and donned my apron. The next couple of hours passed in a blur of whipping together meals for customers.

I let my mind wander as I cooked.

Everything had been okay.

It was all good—until it all started to go downhill.

And it was all my fault.

I hadn't spoken to him since it all happened. The last conversation we'd had ended in tears—my tears. And I was too guilty to try again.

I stared out the window as I worked, letting myself get lost in the beauty of the garden outside Nature's Kitchen. The wild array of flowers—colors scattered like an artist's paint across a canvas—drew me in but failed to quell my despair.

I sighed heavily. Pure despondency washed over me. I felt lost.

---

Later that night, I stood scrubbing the tables, staring off into space. My hand moved meticulously as my thoughts raced a million miles a minute, drifting down memory lane.

Tears gathered in my eyes as I thought back to what had happened—what had led to everything two years ago.

All that had played out.