As the silence settles so does my heart rate. The blood in my ears isn’t quite so loud anymore and my arms and hands don’t tingle. I want to talk to my brother; even just hearing his voice would bring me all the way back down to normal. But I’m too afraid of what he’d say. That it will sound too much like I told you so. I could call Jeremy. He’s the type of friend who never questions why you’re calling. He’ll just make me laugh and then be totally apologetic, like he was the one calling me. But I don’t know where my phone is and the energy I need to find it is bleeding out of me fast. It pumps out of my fingers, evaporating through my eyeballs until the only thing I can do is drop my head onto my arms on the desk.

The worst day of my life was the day Mom died. Leaving her side was like leaving a piece of myself behind. Like I was attached to her and the only way to move forward was to tear myself away, even if it meant losing layers of skin, maybe a limb or two. Dad’s not dead. He treats his body like shit but somehow, he’s the picture of health, and yet the pain feels the same. I know, in my heart, that nothing he said tonight is true. I know that I am strong and capable. I am smart and confident. I am everything I need to be. But whatever I am is just not good enough for him and now I have to leave another piece of me behind. Because I definitely can’t go through that again.

The wound won’t be as big or as deep. There won’t be much of a scar but I’m not willing to put myself through that anymore. Especially not in front of my team, my guests.

In front of Sophie.

I moan into my forearms. I should be embarrassed that she witnessed that. I froze. I was a complete mess. But mostly I want to hold her. No one, other than my mom or my brother, steps up for me. Mostly because I don’t let them. But Sophie did. She does time and again, even though I give her too many reasons not to. Even when it costs her thirty thousand dollars.

I want to say thank you to her in a million different ways. Breakfast in the morning, a full seating every single night. I want to make her breathless. I don’t want her to choose somewhere else, someone else, over this restaurant, over me. I want to throw myself at her feet. And after that, if she decides she wants to go our separate ways and meet other women or cook somewhere else, so be it.

But right now? I want Sophie to burn herself out on me.

Hands in my hair jolt me awake. I sit up fast and immediately my neck protests the strange angle I fell asleep in. With her hand in my hair, holding the back of my head, I close my eyes again and let her take my weight.