The morning sun spilled golden light across the kitchen floor, catching the edge of Stacy's mug as steam curled upward in delicate spirals. The smell of coffee filled the small apartment—warm, familiar, grounding.
Stacy stood barefoot by the stove, flipping eggs with practiced calm, though something in her chest felt unsettled. She couldn't name it yet.
Then—
"Smells like heaven in here," Zoe said, breezing into the kitchen already dressed for work, her heels clicking softly on the floor. Her voice was upbeat, too upbeat.
Stacy smiled, offering a plate. "Breakfast's ready."
Zoe leaned over, lifting her fork. "I love it when you cook for me."
Stacy arched an eyebrow. "You really mean it?"
"Yeah," Zoe said, her mouth full. "And look at you—cooking like a pro now. Who would've thought that Stacy Holloway, the same woman whose employees are terrified of her, went from burning eggs to mastering the perfect sunny-side up?"
Stacy laughed, light and genuine, and tried to swipe Zoe's plate playfully.
Zoe held back, laughing too. "Don't take it—your cooking is what makes this morning perfect. Burnt or not."
"Then finish what's on that plate, okay? No leftovers." Stacy gently cut into her egg, her eyes never leaving Zoe as she ate.
"Yes, chef!" Zoe said, lifting her fork dramatically.
But Stacy's smile faded as her eyes dropped to Zoe's hands. Red. Raw. Fingers inflamed at the joints. The skin around her knuckles looked chapped, almost burned.
Her stomach twisted.
"What happened to your hands?" Stacy asked, voice quiet but sharp, eyes narrowing as she reached gently across the table.
Zoe instantly flinched and pulled her hands back beneath the table, too fast. "Oh, uh... it's nothing. Just... my coworker had this lotion—some fancy office brand. I must've had a reaction."
Stacy didn't buy it. Not for a second.
Zoe stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. "I have to go. I'm already running behind."
"Zoe—"
"I'll call you at lunch, okay?" She leaned down, pressed a kiss to Stacy's cheek. "Love you."
And then the door shut behind her before Stacy could say anything else.
Silence settled over the kitchen like a fog. The eggs on her plate had gone cold.
Stacy sat frozen, staring at the spot where Zoe had stood, her mind spinning. The lie echoed in her ears like a crack in glass, small but irreversible. Lotion? That redness wasn't from lotion.
It was maybe from dish soap. Scrubbing. Hours of standing on her feet. It was the truth trying to peek through Zoe's careful disguise.
Stacy's chest tightened, her breath catching in her throat.
She knew.
Zoe was still working that job.
Still hiding it.
Still pretending.
For her.
Stacy blinked hard and pushed back from the table. Her hands shook as she reached for her phone and scrolled down to Lesley's name.
She hesitated for only a moment—then tapped Call.
The phone rang once. Twice.
"Stacy?" Lesley's voice came through, a bit surprised.
"Can we meet?" Stacy's voice was low. Steady. But beneath it, something cracked wide open.
-
Stacy slid into the café booth, sadness etched into every movement. Her voice was barely above a whisper. Lesley was already there, warm latte in hand, the smell of coffee and sweet foam wrapping around them.
"I already ordered for us," Lesley said gently, pushing a cup across to Stacy.
Stacy nodded, her voice small. "Thank you, Les."
Lesley took a sip of her latte, eyes studying Stacy. "So... how are you? How are you and Zoe holding up now?"
Stacy traced the rim of the cup with her finger, avoiding Lesley's gaze, swallowing hard. "We're... surviving. Struggling, but surviving."
Lesley's brow furrowed. "Have you found anything yet? Work?"
Stacy's shoulders slumped. "Some tutoring here and there. That's all I can find. I never thought I'd be this broke."
Lesley reached across the table, placing her palm over Stacy's. The cup rattled. "Do you ever regret leaving your family... all that safety... for Zoe?"
Stacy flinched like she'd been struck. "Regret leaving? No. That was the best choice of my life. But I... I didn't expect it would cost so much."
Her voice cracked, tears gathering. She wiped one away with the back of her hand.
"All those strings your dad pulled—every favor, every closed door—it all made things worse," Lesley said, her voice low and tight with hurt.
Stacy looked down, her hands trembling in her lap, fingers twisting together as if trying to hold herself together.
"I know," she whispered. "We've been scraping by ever since. And..." She paused, swallowing hard. "Zoe she's not working in some office like she said. She's in a restaurant—serving tables, cleaning floors... pretending she's a secretary for my sake."
Her voice wavered, and a hollow breath escaped her lips.
"I didn't have the heart to confront her. Because deep down... I understand why she lied."
Her throat tightened. She blinked hard, but the tears still slipped through.
"She didn't want me to carry that weight. She knew I'd beg her to quit. That I'd fall apart if I knew she had to scrub floors just so we could survive. And if I asked her to stop, we'd both struggle more. But if I let her keep going... it's like I'm standing by while she breaks herself."
Her voice cracked, barely a whisper now.
"She lied because she loves me. And all I feel is that I failed her."
There was a long pause. The air in the room felt heavy—thick with pain and things left unsaid.
Lesley's eyes softened, her voice quiet. "So... she already told you—?"
Stacy's eyes widened, her breath catching. "You... you knew?"
Lesley hesitated, guilt flickering across her face. Then she nodded.
"I just happened to eat there one day. She saw me, and we talked." Her voice lowered. "I told her she should tell you the truth. That you deserved to know."
She swallowed, looking away for a second before continuing.
"But she said... she said you already had enough weight on your shoulders."
Stacy let out a shaky breath, her vision blurring again.
"That's just like her," she murmured. "Always trying to protect me. Even if it means hiding how much she's hurting."
She stared into her coffee, now cold and untouched, her voice trembling. "I used to think love meant sacrifice—that if I gave up everything—my family, my comfort, my name—it would be enough. But I never asked if she was ready to lose everything too."
Lesley stayed quiet, her hand still wrapped around Stacy's.
"I watched her through the restaurant window," Stacy whispered. "She didn't see me. She was wiping down tables, her back aching, her hands red and raw. I remember those hands... how they used to glide across her tablet, sketching designs with such grace. Now they're cracked from bleach and dish soap."
A tear slipped down Stacy's cheek, then another. She didn't wipe them away.
"She used to wear silk blouses. Heels that clicked confidently down office halls. Now it's a hairnet. Non-slip shoes. And somehow... she still smiles through it. She smiles for strangers while I sit at home, waiting for her to come back exhausted."
Lesley's eyes glistened. "She's doing it for you."
"I know," Stacy said, her voice breaking. "And that's what hurts the most. She's breaking herself to hold us together."
Lesley said nothing, but her eyes were fierce with sorrow.
Stacy's heart felt like it might break. "It's unfair. It's so unfair to her. She doesn't deserve this burden—this shame of hiding. For me."
She finally looked up, breathing fast. "I love her so damn much, Les. More than I knew I could. But I can't keep watching her suffer because of me."
Lesley's eyes were soft, but her voice held steady. "I know you love her. I saw it before you ever said a word. But love shouldn't feel like drowning. If every day hurts... is that really love?"
Stacy shook her head, tears streaming freely now. Her voice rose with each word, breaking open with the weight of it. "I'd give up everything all over again if it meant she didn't have to suffer like this, Les. I can't keep watching her break—not because of me."
Lesley nodded, pulling her into a hug across the table. The hug was fierce, shaky—comforting in the way only truth can be.
She held Stacy tightly, then whispered, just loud enough to be heard.
"You gave up everything to be with her... and now she's giving up everything to stay with you. But love isn't supposed to cost you both your lives."
She paused, her voice breaking with tenderness.
"But love like that? It deserves better than this."