Queen POV
By the time Demi got home, I was already moving around slowly, getting ready for work, taking my time with each step as I adjusted to the boot and the way it forced me to be more aware of every movement.
He came bursting through the door like he always did, all energy and noise, his little backpack barely hanging onto his shoulder as he ran straight toward me. "Mommy!"
"Hey baby!" I called back, glancing over as I adjusted my shoe on my good foot.
He ran to my arms, stopping short the moment he saw the boot again, his face scrunching up as he pointed at it. "Your boo-boo still there?"
I smiled a little, following his gaze before looking back at him. "Yeah, baby, it's still there."
He walked over slower this time, curiosity taking over as he reached out and tapped the boot gently, like he was testing it. "It still hurt?"
"Only a little," I said.
His brows pulled together like he was thinking hard, then he nodded to himself and leaned down, pressing a quick kiss against the front of the boot before straightening back up. "There. It better now."
I let out a soft laugh, crouching carefully so I could pull him into a quick hug. "I think you fixed it."
He hugged me back tight for a second, then pulled away just as fast, already shifting gears the way kids do. "You gonna go to work?"
"I am, baby," I said, brushing a hand over his hair.
He frowned a little, not dramatic, just enough to show he didn't like it. "I don't like when you go."
"I know," I said gently, smoothing his shirt. "But I'll be back before you know it, okay?"
He nodded, still pouting just a little.
"I love you," I said, leaning down to kiss his forehead.
"I love you," he said back quickly, hopping off the bed, already reaching for one of his toy cars, and took off down the hallway, dragging it along the wall as he ran, making loud engine noises under his breath like nothing else in the world mattered anymore.
I watched him go for a second, a small smile pulling at my lips before I shook my head and pushed myself back up carefully, steadying my weight.
I made my way down the stairs slowly, purse and keys in hand, taking each step with more care than I was used to as I adjusted to the weight of the boot and the way it forced me to move differently.
Crystal was at the base of the stairs, just finishing up as she slipped her coat into the closet, and she looked up the moment she heard me coming down. "Hey, Ms. Jones," she started, but her voice shifted as her eyes dropped to my foot, her expression tightening with concern. "Oh—wow. It's that bad?"
I let out a small breath, glancing down at the boot like I was still getting used to seeing it myself. "Yeah… worse than I thought," I admitted, shifting my stance carefully.
She stepped a little closer, her brows pulling together as she looked at it again. "When I helped you in last night, I knew it was messed up, but I didn't think it was like this."
"Yeah, me neither," I said, giving a small, tired smile. "Doctor said I need to stay off it as much as possible."
Crystal shook her head slightly, then glanced toward the living room where Demi's voice carried faintly, already caught up in whatever he was playing. "Well, I'm glad you're not trying to walk on it like that today," she said. "That would've been a whole problem."
"I don't even have a choice," I muttered, reaching into my purse.
I pulled out some cash and handed it to her, making sure it covered both the night before and today. "This is for yesterday and today," I said. "For staying late and picking him up."
She hesitated for a second before taking it, her expression softening. "You didn't have to do all that."
"Yes, I did," I said simply, meeting her eyes. "You helped me out. I appreciate it."
Crystal nodded, accepting it without pushing back any further as she tucked it into her bag. "Alright," she said. "I've got Demi, don't worry about anything."
"I know," I replied, offering her a small smile. "Thank you. Really."
"Of course," she said, stepping toward the door and pulling it open. "Now go before you're late."
I let out a quiet breath and nodded, tightening my grip on my keys before stepping outside.
I made my way toward the bus stop, everything feeling slower than usual, each step heavier and more deliberate as the boot forced me to move differently. It was frustrating, but it also kept me aware, kept me grounded in a way I hadn't been before, like I couldn't fall into my usual rhythm even if I wanted to. And maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. Because this wasn't my usual routine. Not the woods. Not that path. And after last night, I wasn't in any rush to fall back into something that predictable.
Still, I caught myself glancing over my shoulder more than once, my gaze lingering just a second longer each time, as if I expected something to be there even when I knew better. There was nothing behind me, no footsteps, no voices, nothing out of place, but the feeling didn't completely leave either.
By the time I stepped into the diner, relief settled into me before I even realized I had been holding my breath. The space felt lighter without Manny and his friends, the tension gone in a way that made it easier to slide back into my role without thinking too much about it.
Jessica noticed me the second I walked in, her eyes going straight to the boot before she even said anything. "You're here?" she asked, already shaking her head like she didn't approve.
I tied my apron as I moved behind the counter, avoiding her look. "I'm fine."
"That's not what the doctor said," she replied immediately, folding her arms as she watched me. "You were literally sitting there this morning like you couldn't even put pressure on it, and now you're back at work?"
"I can manage," I said, brushing it off, though my movements were already slower than usual.
Jessica didn't look convinced. "Queen."
"I said I'm fine," I repeated, glancing at her.
She held my gaze for a second longer before letting out a small breath, clearly choosing not to argue further. "Alright," she said finally, though her tone made it obvious she didn't agree. "Just don't be trying to run around like normal."
"I literally can't."
"Good," she muttered, walking off, but not without one last look back at me like she was still debating whether to send me home herself.
I threw myself into work, letting the rhythm of it take over, orders and refills and wiping tables giving me something to focus on that didn't leave room for anything else. The routine helped more than I expected, grounding me in something familiar, something predictable.
Until the bell above the door rang.
I felt it before I saw him, that same quiet shift in the air, subtle but unmistakable, like something steady had entered the room and settled into place without needing attention. My head lifted on its own. I watched as the tall man made his way into the same corner booth. Same hat. Same presence.
My heart skipped once, sharp and sudden enough to make me pause, and when our eyes met, everything else seemed to soften just slightly around the edges. I had told myself I wouldn't miss the chance to talk to him if I saw him again. But standing there now, with the distance between us and everything else still sitting in my chest, it didn't feel as simple as I had made it sound.
"Queen! Table twelve!"
"I got it," I called quickly, pulling my attention away and forcing myself to move.
Work. Focus. That's what I needed. And yet, even as I moved through the diner like nothing had changed, I could still feel him there in the background, steady and quiet in a way that made me aware of him without trying. I told myself I'd go over there. I told myself I would. But for now, I kept moving, letting the routine carry me, pretending that the hesitation sitting in my chest wasn't there at all.