Chapter 7

Jean watched as the two men went away, leaving her alone.

She swiftly grabbed a random chair, and her first impulse was to throw it against the window. She stopped herself short.

No. That's not why she had opened a coffee shop.

Jean sat down on the chair, her face buried in her hands.

She felt something wet around her eyes.

No. No, that couldn’t be real.

She wiped her face with the back of her hand, blaming an imaginary speck of dust that had irritated her eyes. She looked around her. Sunlight was bathing the beige walls of the café as she admired the details of what she had created over the last several days. The atmosphere came together, like it was something special.

She smiled, a smile that turned into a grin for a second, revealing clenched teeth beneath her lips. She went to the mirror, looking at herself with frowning eyes.

Her eyes were a bit redder than usual. She smiled wider, her usual cold, confident smile with which she greeted important clients from behind her office desk. She rearranged a strand of hair behind her ear. There was no room for rebellious strands in her life.

She slapped her cheeks and puffed through her nostrils. Then she got back up and continued working. There were still plenty of finishing touches to add. The café was nowhere near completion.

Late in the afternoon, she saw John and Clement arrive in a large Tesla. John stepped out from the passenger seat and they shook hands.

As Clement drove away, Jean could swear she saw a hint of dissatisfaction on his face, but it was hard to tell. Jean wondered what could be the meaning of that. Was Clement Orca no longer happy to have John in his life as his number one fan?

John entered the café alone.

Jean was surprised that he came back here in the first place.

"Jean!" John shouted as he entered the café. He seemed excited, like a kid who had just come back from an amusement park. "You should've come with us. You have no idea how many things Clement showed me."

“Eh, it’s alright,” she replied with a straight face. “Did you find out anything?”

“The entire city—everywhere—there are corners with portals that throw cat food around. Literally showering little bits of kibble onto the ground. Stray cats are turning into little chonks, and they're so adorable!”

"Maybe," she said, scratching her head. Her mind raced: Was that what he wanted to talk about? The cats?

"And that's not all. Clement said we should check my apartment and we found there was a portal in my pipes. Literally pops tap water into my apartment."

Jean blinked longer than necessary as she glanced sideways.

“But anyway... uh... Jean, are you okay? You seem a bit upset.”

“I—I’m not okay. Fuck, at least you can tell I'm not okay."

She sighed as if she didn't want to speak anymore, but she continued anyway.

"I hate this man. This man has—where should I even start?”

John looked at her, confused.

“It’s okay, Jean, let's take a seat first. You can tell me. You guys have some… history together?”

Jean sighed. She didn't want to talk about it. But she took a seat and started carefully choosing her words. John sat as well, waiting in silence. He seemed like he genuinely cared. Jean took a deep breath and started talking.

“John, there are things you don’t know about me. And things you don't know much about Clement. It turned out he is not the person he claims to be. He may look convincing at first, but in the end, he's a liar and a hypocrite. I trusted him, and when things went south, he disappeared. And I was left to deal with the consequences.”

John's eyes widened.

"Wait... did he leave you pregnant?" John whispered in shock.

"What! Fuck, no!" Jean snapped. "Are you utterly dumb? I was talking about business!"

John seemed relieved.

"Haha, I'm sorry!" he said, genuinely relieved. “For a second, I thought you guys had something going on in the past.”

He smiled and waited in silence. Jean sighed and started rubbing her forehead, as if trying to gather her thoughts.

"Not that kind of something. But… I'd rather not give more details about what happened," she concluded.

"I see," he replied thoughtfully and with concern. "I'm sorry you had to go through this... whatever this was."

"No, you shouldn't feel sorry for me," Jean cut in, shaking her head. "Clement deceived me, but I'm the only one to blame. He simply took advantage of the situation. He made promises he had no intention to keep. That's the thing about him—his word means nothing."

She sighed again, her eyes avoiding John's gaze for a while now. She couldn't stand to watch his face. Not right now.

“I’m sorry, John. I know you like the man. You don’t have to believe me. I—”

John rose suddenly, making Jean flinch.

“Jean, I’m glad you told me this."

Jean looked at him, surprised. His voice had more force than before, but there was also something soft about it. What's wrong with this guy?

"I don't know what happened, and whose fault it was. All I know is that you can move on, sort things out. Maybe this entire thing, us being here, just the three of us... maybe there's a reason for that.”

He paused and looked at her with a smile.

"We all did bad things or stupid things. But maybe the universe is giving us a chance to start over. To let the good person inside ourselves come out."

“But John," she replied. "I’m not a good person.”

“Oh yes, you are.”

"John, let me ask you something. Are you the kind of person who thinks everyone is a good person? Are you that naive?”

John glanced sideways. He seemed embarrassed.

“No..." he replied. "Everyone does bad stuff at some point. I'm just saying that maybe there's a chance for us to forgive each other. Like you have forgiven my debt. I mean the debt to your bank. Or like I have forgiven you for, hmm... yeah! For stalking me! See?”

She burst out laughing.

"You are hopelessly dumb, John!"

And for a moment, they both laughed together. She was wiping tears from her eyes for the second time in a single day. She prayed John would assume they were tears of laughter.

"Anyway," Jean continued, eventually getting hold of herself. "Back to work. There's still a lot of work to do around here. Still willing to help me carry some stuff upstairs, John?"

"Haha, count me in!" John said, standing up and stretching his arms. "Let's do this!"

Little did he know what he was getting himself into. Jean had a lot of stuff. A lot of heavy stuff. And she lived on the thirtieth floor. This was going to be a long day.