Detective and Me

Chapter 5

The following week passed in a blur. Despite my expectations, my mind wasn't preoccupied with the unpleasant memories of my encounter with the robbers. In fact, the exact opposite. Though there were still a few traces of that incident in my subconscious, it wasn't as bad as I anticipated it would be. On the other hand, a certain dark-haired detective has been in my thoughts since then. The memories of hazel eyes, gentle touches, and soothing voices invaded my thoughts more often than I thought was normal. And I have no idea if it is a good thing. While the fantasies of Detective Martin have been successful in keeping my anxiety and panic at bay, those same fantasies have led me to the realization that I am developing a full-blown crush on Camden. And now I am using his first name. That is definitely a bad sign, right? I have spent this whole week daydreaming about him and wondering when and how we are going to meet again—if we are ever going to meet again. The doorbell chimed, jolting me from my thoughts and signaling the arrival of a new customer. I jerked my head in that direction and was stunned. Yes, you guessed it right—the man himself was walking into our diner with the grace of a king. It's like my thoughts have conjured him into reality. He noticed me behind the counter and started toward me. I can't deal with him right now because I have lost my ability to speak, and as soon as the first word leaves my mouth, he will know that I have been thinking non-stop about him. He is a detective, after all. Where are Darla and Miya? I took a quick scan of the diner; it is quite full today, and they are busy with other customers. dammit... That leaves me to attend to him. He gives me a warm smile as he approaches me. I muster all my courage and return his gesture. "Hii..." I greet him as cheerfully as I can, hoping that will mask the obvious nervousness in my voice. "Hello, Ava," he replies. and it didn't escape my attention that he remembered my name. "Welcome, Mr. Martin, So, what brings you here today?" "Well, I was passing by, and then I remembered someone telling me about the amazing hospitality of this place. So, I thought it would be a good idea to inspect that myself." He remembered that, too. Butterflies take a flight in my stomach. I summon my most professional expression, but a smile finds its way on my lips. "Okay, if that's the case, take a seat, sir, and see for yourself." He nodded with a small smile on his lips and walked over to an empty table in the corner of the diner. I take off my apron and make my way towards his table. He is carefully inspecting the menu with the most serious expression on his face, like he is reading a case file of a criminal and not a diner's menu. 

I stifle a smile and clear my throat to get his attention. He looks up, and I ask, in what I assume is my professional tone, "Are you ready to order, sir, or do you need more time to think?" "No, I have decided. I would like to order a cup of black coffee." I look at him and say, "And..." "Just coffee; I am not feeling like eating anything." "Ohhkayy, Be right back." I turn to leave, but I stop when he calls my name. "Yes?" "What is your favorite drink?" I frown at his question but still reply, "Umm, café au lait. Why do you ask?" "I was Wondering if you would like to have a cup with me." He replies casually. My eyebrows shoot up. I open my mouth to respond, but surprisingly, nothing comes out. He watches me with an amused expression. "So..." he prompts. He is just asking you to have coffee with him; don't make it a big deal. I scolded myself. "Sorry, but we don't have Café au Lait on our menu." He looks confused at my failed attempt to joke, "But I would love to have a cup of cappuccino with you." I reply with a smile, that I hope she doesn't look too excited. His frown gives way to the most beautiful smile, and I grin wider, now completely looking like that heart-eyed emoji, but I can't help myself. I brought both of our orders less than fifteen minutes later, and I also made a quick tour of the restroom to check my hair and outfit. I am wearing my favorite pink sweater with blue baggy pants—nothing fancy but comfy and casual. I look fine. I quickly run my hands through my hair, step out of the restroom, and make my way to his... our table. I set the drinks down and took a seat myself. He looks sexy as hell in his white dress shirt and black slacks, his normal work outfit. I've never understood how men can manage to look good without even trying—just dress up, wear cologne, and be ready. While us girls have to spend hours getting ready, And this man, right in front of me, is the most gorgeous male specimen. I sat there awkwardly for a few moments. But then my eyes go to his hands, the ring on his finger—wedding ring. He is married. My heart sinks. I mean, he never clarified, and I never asked, and it was just a one-sided silly crush, so I have no right to feel betrayed, but I do. 

Come on! Get a hold of yourself!! It's not like he led me on or something. "It's not what you think." His voice drags me out of my rambling thoughts. "Sorry, I just... I didn't know you were married," I reply, feeling like a complete idiot. "No, I am not married, not anymore." I look at him, waiting for him to continue. He hesitates for a moment, then continues, "My wife died two years ago... cancer." Oh. Vulnerability flickers across his features, and I feel horrible for putting him through this. "I am so, so sorry," I start, but he interrupts me. "No need to apologize; you didn't know." Still. He stares into space for a few beats, like he is remembering something. My heart aches for him. He is wearing his wedding ring, which means he is still in love with her. I cover his hand with mine, and his eyes dart towards me. I say nothing because that's not what he needs right now. Camden gives me a look. It's clear that he doesn't want to talk about it, so I change the subject and take my hand away. "So, any leads on the case?" He welcomes the distraction when I ask him. His expression changed into the professional one he used with me during our first two encounters. "Yes, it turns out he blackmailed that poor girl to back him." "So, she wasn't his girlfriend?" "No, she works with him in a low-key bar in downtown. He convinced her to be his alibi. She confessed that he knew some secret of hers and was holding it over her head." "That's... disgusting." He took a sip of his milkshake and stated, "It is what it is. Don't worry about it; just know that he is behind bars now." I nod. "Tell me about yourself. What are you up to?" We chatted for a while, and I told him about the bucket list I had made after the incident. When I thought I was going to die, at that moment, I realized something. We always think we have so much time to do things, but that's not the reality. How can we know what moment is our last? We spend our lives in search of the "right moment," but that never comes. And when death knocks at your door, you've got nothing but regrets. I don't want these regrets, so I made a bucket list a few days ago, listing all those that I want to achieve before dying. Because if there is any right moment, it's now. Camden appreciated the idea and told me to contact him if I needed any help regarding my bucket list. He left after we exchanged numbers, leaving me to mull over how to complete my bucket list and how to get over my silly little crush.