Page 24 of My Sunfall

The next day is Sunday, and I go to the farmer’s market. I love the quiet buzzing of the people strolling around the stalls, the unhurried and relaxed atmosphere. It’s so far away from the stifling life I had before. People recognize me and stop to chat. Women I teach, parents of children coming to my classes. I am happily inhaling the wonderful scent of a bouquet of peonies when the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

I groan. Lucas… Not again.

I whirl around, fully prepared to tell him off, but he’s not standing right behind me like I expected. I spot him casually leaning against the wall of a building on the other side of the market, eyes hidden behind shades. I send him a dirty glare and turn around to walk back home, lightheaded and hands shaking from irritation.

On Monday, my day off, he is nonchalantly leaning against a ridiculously big, matte black SUV parked in front of the small bookstore I love. I am walking out, packing away my latest purchase when my eyes lift and collide with his icy blue stare and I stop dead in my tracks. He doesn’t move, doesn’t talk, he simply watches me with his unwavering gaze. I turn around and stomp home, pulse hammering loudly in my ears.

The next day, he walks into the coffee shop and slouches down into a chair in the back of the café, leaning his back to the wall and eyes never leaving me. My hands go clammy when I go over to take his order.

“Good morning, sir. What can I get you?” I ask, tone cool but polite.

He looks up at me with a slow, predatory smile. “Hmmm. What do you have?”

I frown. He takes his coffee black, what game is he playing? “We have coffee,” I recite. “Lattes, cappuccino, cold brew—”

“Slow down,” he interrupts me. “Start again, I don’t want to miss a thing.”

I grit my teeth and start over, enunciating each word slowly and painstakingly, fighting to keep my voice even, although I want to scream at him.

“And flavors?” he drawls once I’ve finished my list.

I inhale deeply and internally count to five before I am able to speak again. “Vanilla, hazelnut, mocha, caramel—”

“Again, slower,” he orders and my face heats from fury. People are beginning to look our way, wondering what is going on.

I go over the flavors again, heart hammering in my chest as he smirks evilly up at me, clearly enjoying himself.

“You know, you’re very thorough. Makes me wonder what else you’re good at explaining,” he drawls once I’m finished.

My stomach knots. “Do you want coffee or not?” I snap, my patience gone.

“Black, no sugar.” He pauses, his intense gaze dropping to my lips before trailing back up to my eyes. “Strong, like you.”

Heat floods my cheeks, not from the flattery but from pure rage. I spin on my heels before I say or do something reprehensible, his soft chuckle following me all the way back to the counter.

The morning goes by and customers come and go. But all I can feel is his gaze boring into me. At noon, my nerves are shot and my hands are shaking so badly that I have to hide them under my apron. To top it all off, Ethan strides in after the lunch rush. He brushes his usual kiss over my lips and goes to sit at a table while I hurry to make our espressos.

From the corner of my eye, I see him notice Lucas, he waves once and Lucas nods his head, eyes gleaming malevolently.

Shit, I’ve got a bad feeling about this.

I hurry over to Ethan and set our cups down, heart pounding like a jackhammer. “Here.” I try to sound casual. But Ethan is not looking at me. His gaze is locked on Lucas at the other end of the café. He doesn’t say anything, but his hands are curled into fists as his eyes are locked on the blue ones across the room. They stare at each other for an eternity, none of them willing to break the showdown. Until I can’t take the pressure anymore.

“Ethan,” I whisper, tugging on his arm. His eyes flick to me, still filled with tension even if they soften somewhat. “Please, can you…just leave it. I’ll meet you at the gym after my shift for our boxing lesson, okay?”

He studies me for a long beat then nods once, face taut. “Fine.” He chugs his coffee and leans over to cup my face and press a kiss to my lips, lingering long enough to send a clear message. Then he stands up and leaves. I watch his back disappear through the door and stand up to put the cups in the sink, my stomach somewhere in my throat. When I turn to Lucas, he is still there, leaning on the wall. But his smirk is gone. His jaw is clenched and his eyes burning. He lifts his cup to signal for another one, and I tear my gaze from his to get him a new coffee. When I put it down in front of him, his hand shoots out to grab my wrist in a hard, unrelenting grip. I look into his eyes with shock, and the silence between us stretches on for several beats. Then, when he finally speaks, his voice is so low that only I can hear him.

“Don’t let him kiss you again if you value his life.”

Chapter Sixteen

Chiara

The next days go by in the same way, Lucas shows up at the coffee shop, orders his coffee while trying his best to rile me and stalks me to whichever place I go. The bookstore, the grocery store, I can even feel his eyes on me in the street, although I refuse to turn around to acknowledge him.

Today the coffee shop is bustling with activity, and I welcome the distraction that helps me divert my focus away from my personal stalker. In fact, the café is unusually crowded, there is hardly a free table. I frown. It has never been this full on a Thursday morning.

It takes me about ten minutes of weaving between tables, serving lattes and muffins before the realization hits me—almost all of the customers are women. I have never seen most of them here before. All of them are dressed up to the nines, their voices and laughter tinkling in the morning air. And suddenly it all becomes clear when I see all their gazes drawn in the same direction.