Chapter 2 - Double Shots
739 Words
The migraine hit me the moment I opened my eyes that morning.
Severe.
The kind that pulsed behind my temples, hammering relentlessly against my skull without mercy.
The day started with the usual routine. Dropping Zayn off at school and Zarra at preschool.
I had enrolled them in the same private school, where they stayed until four in the afternoon. It gave me a few precious hours to myself. Time to manage the house, catch up on orders, and hopefully get some rest.
On the way home, I drove past my favourite café.
Without thinking twice, I pulled into the parking lot.
"Morning. My usual, please. But make it a double shot."
The barista looked up and smiled.
She had been working there for almost three years and had long since memorised my order.
"Rough morning?" she asked while tapping my order into the register.
I chuckled.
"Yeah. Migraine decided to make a grand entrance before breakfast."
She laughed.
"Oh, and add a blueberry chia bagel too."
"Coming right up."
A few minutes later, I was back in my car with my coffee.
Buttercream latte.
Double shot.
Almond milk.
Even though the buttercream already contained dairy, I still swapped the milk for almond milk.
Habit, I guess.
Or maybe it was my way of pretending I made healthy choices while drinking a coffee topped with buttercream.
I arrived home a few minutes later.
The traffic had been surprisingly smooth for a Monday morning, especially after the school break. The weather was pleasant too, with a cool breeze softening the warmth of the sun.
The moment I pulled the handbrake, pressed the button to close the automatic gate, and switched off the engine, my phone buzzed again.
Ugh.
The same number.
I had ignored the messages last night and planned to keep it that way.
Whoever it was could wait.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I resisted the urge to check the notification. Instead, I switched my phone to Do Not Disturb mode and tossed it onto the passenger seat.
My porch was one of my favourite spots in the house.
A small garden table and two chairs sat near the entrance. Nothing fancy. Just enough space for the kids and me to enjoy our weekend mornings together under the sunshine.
Surrounding the area were the plants I loved most. Monstera, spider lilies, and Japanese roses that bloomed in different colours throughout the year.
At the far corner of the porch sat a small fish pond.
A miniature waterfall trickled continuously, creating a soothing background melody. Beneath the clear water, colourful guppies darted gracefully between the rocks and aquatic plants.
I sprinkled a handful of fish food into the pond.
Within seconds, the guppies rushed toward the surface, competing for breakfast.
I couldn't help but smile.
Instead of going inside, I settled into one of the chairs with my coffee and bagel.
For a few precious moments, I allowed myself to enjoy the cool breeze, the warm sunlight, and the rare silence.
The migraine never really left.
The coffee helped.
A little.
The painkillers helped too.
A little.
But the dull throbbing behind my eyes remained stubbornly in place.
After finishing my breakfast, I headed inside and swallowed two tablets with the last sip of my coffee.
The house felt unusually quiet without Zayn and Zarra around.
No arguments.
No cartoons.
No endless questions.
Just silence.
I should probably use the time to pack orders.
Or do laundry.
Or answer customer inquiries.
Instead, I collapsed onto the sofa.
Just twenty minutes, I told myself.
Twenty minutes turned into three hours.
When I finally woke up, sunlight was streaming through the living room windows.
For a moment, I didn't know where I was.
Then the familiar ache in my head reminded me.
Migraine.
Right.
I reached for my phone.
Twenty-three notifications.
Most were from customers.
A few were from suppliers.
And twelve...
Twelve were from the same unknown number.
I stared at the screen.
Seriously?
I opened the chat.
Hi, beautiful.
Can we talk?
Good morning.
I hope your day is going well.
Are you busy?
Sorry.
I know this is weird.
I shouldn't have messaged you out of nowhere.
I just wanted to say hello.
The messages continued.
None of them were inappropriate.
None of them were threatening.
Just...
Persistent.
My irritation slowly began to outweigh my curiosity.
With a sigh, I typed a reply.
WHAT DO YOU WANT?
- Writer
