Grief didn't leave.
It just changed shape.
The first week after the funeral felt endless.
The second moved too fast.
By the third, people stopped asking how they were doing.
Life had a cruel habit of continuing.
Bills still arrived.
Classes still happened.
The café still opened at seven.
And somehow the world expected them to keep up.
---
Leo returned to work on a Tuesday.
Aiden didn't ask questions.
Not immediately.
He simply handed Leo an apron and pointed toward the espresso machine.
"You're on drinks."
Leo nodded.
The familiar routine helped.
Coffee beans.
Steam.
Orders.
Names written on cups.
Simple things.
Predictable things.
For a few hours he could focus on measurements and temperatures instead of empty rooms and missing voices.
A customer smiled at him.
Leo smiled back automatically.
Then immediately felt guilty.
The feeling hit so suddenly he nearly dropped a cup.
His mother had died.
How could he smile?
The thought followed him all morning.
