Love Goes On

Hannah

This is so weird. I adored Alanna and Fred Levy when Caleb and I were dating. There was such a contrast in his demeanour when he was around them versus when his parents were home. Even on the phone. They loved him and Sophie, and judging by the difference between how Caleb reacted to his parents showing up and his grandparents, the feeling is mutual.

He never asked me to go say hi to Noa and Henry, and no surprise, they didn’t ask to see me, either. But I’d rather scrub my eyeballs with a barbeque brush than spend time around Henry McNamara. Thankfully, I don’t have the same hatred toward the elderly couple I’m now approaching.

Alanna still looks as sweet as ever, but I can’t get over how much Oscar and Hollis have changed. All four pairs of eyes light up as they see me drawing near, and I’m greeted with warm smiles.

Both grandparents stand and pull me in for a joint hug. Alanna squeezes me tight as Fred wraps his arms around us both. I’m surprised by how emotional the reunion is. I didn’t realize how much I missed them, too. My grandparents all passed away before I started kindergarten, so I never had the loving relationship Caleb has with his. And by extension, I guess I had with them many years ago.

“Look at you!” Alanna states, leaning away from me. “You look beautiful.”

I drop my eyes to take in my chef coat and can only imagine what my hair is doing. “You are too kind.”

The adorable couple sits back down so we can stay out of the way of the waitstaff.

I turn to Oscar and shake my head in disbelief. “Last time I saw you, you were nine years old and obsessed with karate.”

“Ah, well, I’ve moved on from that.” He flashes me a brilliant smile, looking every bit the young man he now is. “How have you been?”

That’s a loaded question, so I redirect it to answer it in a way suitable for a family dinner. “Good. I’m really enjoying working here.” Most of the time. Okay, about forty percent of the time. “I can’t believe my eyes right now. You guys have grown up so much.”

“Not for lack of trying not to,” Hollis retorts, smirking at her brother. “Some of us more than others.”

The two siblings bicker back and forth for a moment, making me laugh with their snappy comebacks and good-natured pestering. If I remember correctly, Hollis is four years older, so when I last saw the Luna family, their bickering was even worse. I can’t help but laugh, realizing some things never change.

I’ve been out here for several minutes and know I should be getting back to my job before I get in trouble. The last thing I need is for Caleb to find another reason to be upset with me. As I open my mouth to tell the diners I need to leave, I feel a palpable presence behind me.

“How is everything?” Caleb asks, coming to a stop beside me, wearing a wide smile.

“Amazing. Everything tastes good and looks even better,” Oscar answers, sending Caleb a wink.

I’m a little confused by that because as chefs, we want our food to look and taste amazing. It’s disappointing if it looks great but doesn’t live up to expectations. Before I can question his answer, Caleb lifts a hand and places it on my lower back. The immediate rush of butterflies is surprising, but not.

A decade ago, I had the same surge of excitement in my belly every time Caleb so much as flashed a tight-lipped smile at me. I was so painfully in love with him, when he touched me—even something as innocent as holding my hand—I lost all sense. The same thing is happening now.

“Hannah?” Alanna calls, redirecting my attention.

I shake my head and focus on the sweet grey-haired woman. “Yes?”

“I hope my Caleb is being a good boss.” Her smiling eyes stare up at her beloved grandson, then focus on me.

“Oh, uh… Yeah. He’s uh… way better than my last boss.” I laugh awkwardly, prompting Caleb to drop his hand. I’m not sure if he remembers our conversations about my old boss, but if he does, he probably won’t see that as much of a compliment.

Judging by his narrowed eyes, I’d say he remembers.

“Well, the boss says it’s time for you to get back to work,” he demands. He’s not harsh about it, but it feels that way. Like he’s chastising me for not singing his praises.

Maybe if his moods weren’t so unpredictable, I’d have given him a glowing review. But his family all know our history and I don’t want to give anyone the impression we’re anything other than boss and employee.

So I listen to my boss, saying goodbye to everyone and turning to walk back to the kitchen. I sneak one last glance before walking through the doorway and see Caleb smiling wide, laughing with the rest of them. A surge of heartbreak rushes through me with an intensity I haven’t felt since he left.

The sudden realization that the love he had for everyone else withstood the great distance and lapse in time. I am the only person he stopped loving when he left. Everyone else still has a place in his life and a piece of his heart. The width and depth of the Atlantic was only too vast for us.

I struggle to ease back into my work, but thankfully the dinner rush is slowing, and the pace of the kitchen is more manageable. Today is my first closing shift since before the Todd fiasco, so it will be several hours before I can escape the whirlwind of emotions trapped within these walls. I’m in desperate need of a snuggle with Akili and some distance from this place.

That’s especially true when Caleb returns fifteen minutes later, carrying four empty dishes. He shouts to Adriano, who is manning the dessert station tonight, requesting four different options from the menu. Caleb slips back into his position at the service station without looking my way. If I put enough effort into ignoring the cataclysmic hole burning through my heart, I can survive the rest of this day.

Three hours later, the entire kitchen staff, minus Alejandro, has cleared out. Most of the time, I love the hustle and bustle of the kitchen, but there’s a feeling of calm and peace at this time of the night that you can’t find at any other time. The mornings are marked with anticipation and the rush to prepare for the day. Open hours are a flurry of chaos, trying to align each of your own tasks with multiple other people and theirs. The pressure to be perfect is consuming. Exhausting. But now, with the lights dimmed and the only sound is the clanging of cookware being washed, it’s relaxing.

I continue to scrub down the last of the surfaces after I’ve prepped what I needed to for tomorrow.

The footsteps I’ve come to recognize start getting closer. Smooth, confident strides. They come to a stop at the other side of the prep table I’m disinfecting, but I don’t look up.

“I can drive you home when you’re done.”

With a final swipe of the gleaming stainless steel surface, I blow out a breath and allow my gaze to land on Caleb. We need to talk. I know that. I want to talk to him, but I’m also dealing with the lingering sting of realizing I was the only person he claimed to love that he walked away from.

I am torn between protecting my heart and protecting my job.

But I can always find another job.

“It’s fine. I’ve still got another twenty minutes of work to do, so you might as well head home.”

The deep brown eyes I used to get lost in focus on me. The bottom half of his face is relaxed, but his lower eyelids are raised and his brows pulled tight. “If we divide and conquer, we can be done in ten,” he says, his voice low and husky.

He doesn’t give me a chance to argue before he snatches the prep container to take it back to the fridge.

I guess today it’s my heart that’s going to be put on the line.

Sure enough, ten minutes later, I’m grabbing my coat and saying good night to Alejandro. Caleb and I descend in the elevator to the parking garage in complete silence. Neither of us speak until we’re several minutes away from work.

“Are you mad at me for what happened with Todd?” I blurt.

Caleb’s head turns toward me so quickly, he swerves slightly. “What? Mad at you? Are you kidding?”

“Well, if I was texting that question, I probably would have added an emotional support LOL at the end, but no, I’m not kidding.”

“An emotional support LOL?” He smirks, which is barely visible in the streetlights as we whip past.

“You know? When you have to say something serious, but you don’t want the other person to feel like it’s a big deal, so you just add LOL at the end to soften the blow?” I mimic texting as I try to explain.

“Does that help?”

“Probably not, but it makes me feel better. Hence the emo—”

“Emotional support LOL. Gotcha.” He signals to pass a slow-moving car in the right lane. “To answer your question. No. Not even a little mad at you, Hannah.”

I hesitate to ask the next question, but I know we need to sort this out. “Then why have you been avoiding me ever since the market?”