10-27-2025, 06:31 PM
(This post was last modified: 10-27-2025, 09:33 PM by Rachel Shale.)
Rachel got dressed, keeping it casual. She had a pair of jeans and a long sleeved shirt on. It was nothing special. Just simple. She seemed to be liking that lately. Rachel got a cab from her wallet and rode silently, watching the buildings pass by outside. They arrived right on time, but Rachel waited in a moment.
”You okay, Miss,” the driver asked when she hadn’t gotten out in a several seconds.
She faced him. ”Yeah - I just need a minute or two. Don’t worry - I’ll give you a better tip.” she said with a light smile.
She took a couple deep breaths and paid the man, leaving a generous tip before entering the restaurant. She had felt nervous in the car, and it was why she had waited. She still was a little bit, but it was manageable. She didn’t think Cruz was lying when he said he still cared, but she still found herself wondering if he was upset with her. Logic was hard when mixed with trauma.
Rachel asked the hostess about Cruz and was able to point him out. He was in a quiet corner of the restaurant away from the traffic of entering and exiting patrons and the hustle and bustle of the kitchen. It should be perfect. She was worried about being overstimulated. It could sometimes happen.
She smiled genuinely as she got close to the table, taking the seat across from him. ”Hi Cruz, sorry I’m a little late.” she said. ”Its really good to see you again. How have you been?” she asked, her questions genuine, her voice soft and more reserved than it had been.
”You okay, Miss,” the driver asked when she hadn’t gotten out in a several seconds.
She faced him. ”Yeah - I just need a minute or two. Don’t worry - I’ll give you a better tip.” she said with a light smile.
She took a couple deep breaths and paid the man, leaving a generous tip before entering the restaurant. She had felt nervous in the car, and it was why she had waited. She still was a little bit, but it was manageable. She didn’t think Cruz was lying when he said he still cared, but she still found herself wondering if he was upset with her. Logic was hard when mixed with trauma.
Rachel asked the hostess about Cruz and was able to point him out. He was in a quiet corner of the restaurant away from the traffic of entering and exiting patrons and the hustle and bustle of the kitchen. It should be perfect. She was worried about being overstimulated. It could sometimes happen.
She smiled genuinely as she got close to the table, taking the seat across from him. ”Hi Cruz, sorry I’m a little late.” she said. ”Its really good to see you again. How have you been?” she asked, her questions genuine, her voice soft and more reserved than it had been.