But You Loved Me

I'd spent the rest of my lunch hour drifting in and out of Mikey's monologue about his job, his dog, his girlfriend and whatever else he was talking about, occasionally throwing in a nod, or a ‘mmm’ just to make it seem as though I was listening. Although I was pretty sure he had worked out after all these years that I paid very little attention to anything now, I think he was just happier to pretend I was listening.

The hour slowly came to a close, and after a quick hug, we parted ways, Mikey heading for his car, and me for my little old bookstore. Slipping into the stale atmosphere, my mood dropping the minute I stepped through the door, into the expectantly empty store. I discarded my jacket before taking Steve's place behind the counter - where I would be spending the rest of my afternoon – while he disappeared for his own lunch. Why we couldn't just shut the store for an hour or so, I would never understand. It's not like anyone would care.

I glanced around the store for a moment, considering checking if any needed re-ordering or taking off the shelves, but after very little consideration I decided against it, and settled down onto the stool, pulling out a comic book from under the desk and flipping it open, hoping to lose myself in another world for the next however many hours I was forced to sit here.

In the period between the end of my lunch hour, and my coffee break, we had two customers – which was rather unusual, generally we were lucky to get one – both of which who were in and out within ten minutes. Honestly, I'd probably like my job just a little more if I actually got to work every now and again. But, customers or no customers, I always welcomed a coffee break. It was the one time of the day where I would push every thought out of my head, and just sit and drink my coffee. It was the one time where I finally felt peaceful and happy - something I couldn't even achieve in my sleep – until the final hours of my shift came around.

*

The soft jingle of the bell above the door roused me from my comic; I glanced over to the bookshelves only to be met by the top of someone's head, and the faint sound of their footsteps. I sighed, flipping the comic shut and sliding it back underneath the desk before pushing myself up from my stool. And there I waited, tapping my fingers on the back of my hand as I listened to the occasional thud of a book, or the gentle sniff of whoever was handling them.

Sometime later, and the footsteps started again, growing louder this time. I forced a somewhat pleasant expression onto my face as a small stack of books were set in front of me, quickly adding up their prices – well, the cash register did – and then taking the notes he offered before dropping his change into his gloved hand – I say gloved, they were fingerless.

I slid the books across the counter – we didn't do bags, trying to be Eco-friendly and all that shit. You wanted a bag, you brought your own… probably another reason we didn't have many customers – glancing up at him as I did so. And that was when my jaw dropped.

He smiled briefly before picking up his books and heading for the door without a word, leaving me stood, completely dumbstruck, behind the counter. He had been there, completely within touching distance, for at least two minutes. We had been in the same room, for at least ten. Our eyes had met, for at least four seconds.

For the first time in seven years, our eyes had met. And he didn't even notice it was me.