If the Sun Has Faded Away (UNDER REWRITING)

Chapter 21: Bridging the Distance

The continuous hum of machinery instinctively led my steps toward the workshop. I knew I'd find Mr. Thomas there. The dim light softened the features of his face even further, making him seem gentler than I remembered. For a few minutes, I stood in silence, watching him from a distance. He was meticulously working on eyeglasses, using the cutting machine with the precision of a man who had spent decades mastering his craft. His hands, steady and careful, reflected the years of experience he had acquired as an optician since his days back in Ceylon.

In a single motion, he fit the freshly cut lenses into a spectacle frame. Then, reaching for a cloth on the counter, he cleaned the glasses with such tenderness, as if the slightest pressure might shatter them. He hadn't noticed me yet.

I took a deep breath, gathering the courage to speak. "Good morning, sir."

My voice pierced the quiet. He flinched, shoulders jolting in surprise. For a few seconds, he looked at me, his expression shifting from surprise to recognition. "John?"

His brown eyes—so like Lucy's—were wide with astonishment.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," I offered an awkward smile, my heart racing.

"It's... it's okay," he said, attempting a smile in return, though his eyes still carried a trace of suspicion. "Is everything all right, son?"

The word "son" sent a shiver down my spine. I couldn't recall Mr. Thomas ever addressing me that way before. The simple word stirred something deep inside me.

"I—yes, sir. Everything's fine." I nodded, but the words stuck in my throat. I was nervous. You shouldn't have come here. Bad idea, Lennon.

"You're the last person I expected to see this morning, John," Mr. Thomas remarked, though his smile now seemed a little more genuine.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that." My anxiety clung to every syllable. "I just wanted to thank you for the sunglasses you gave me, sir. They were such a thoughtful gift."

He blinked, clearly taken aback. "The sunglasses?"

I nodded. "Yes, sir. I didn't expect them, and I'm very grateful." Despite my nerves, a smile crept across my face. Just thinking about those Ray-Ban glasses made me happy—until a sudden, nagging thought shot through my mind. You don't deserve them, John.

The thought startled me, and I tried to push it away. But it wouldn't leave. You can't keep them.

"Sir, I—I'm really touched by your kindness. But I don't think I deserve them," I said before I could stop myself. The words felt surprisingly confident.

Mr. Thomas frowned in disbelief. "Of course you do, son. Those glasses are yours."

The warmth in his smile was undeniable. I stood there, feeling conflicted. How could this man, whom I had always assumed disapproved of me, suddenly be so generous? The glasses were beautiful, and I loved them, but still... it didn't feel right.

I fumbled in my jacket and retrieved the glasses case. Handing it back to him, I said, "It wouldn't feel right, sir. Please don't misunderstand me—I love them, but I just can't keep them."

Mr. Thomas stared at the case in his hands for a long moment. Then, finally, he spoke. "Would you like to share a cup of tea with me?"

His question caught me off guard. "I'm sorry, sir?"

"A cup of tea. You look like you could use one."

I hesitated, then gave a slow nod. "With pleasure, sir."

★★★★  

I shifted awkwardly on the sofa, trying to suppress the growing discomfort. The elegant, grey velvet upholstery looked too expensive to sink into. Despite its comfort, I sat stiffly, aware of every move I made.

"Thank you for the tea, sir," I said, my voice more strained than I intended. I felt foolish, struggling to find something else to say.

Mr. Thomas gave a small nod from his seat opposite mine. "This tea is nothing compared to what Divya—sorry, I mean Lucy—makes."

The mention of Lucy sent an electric jolt through me. My hand trembled, nearly spilling the tea in my cup.

"She makes the best tea I've ever had," Mr. Thomas continued, unaware of the effect her name had on me. His face softened, pride filling his smile.

"She excels at everything," I said softly, smiling back.

For a brief moment, Mr. Thomas's smile brightened even more. Then, out of nowhere, his next words almost stopped my heart. "You love her, don't you, John?"

"What—what do you mean, sir?" I stammered.

"I know how much you care for her. You're her closest friend."

Relief washed over me. He wasn't misunderstanding the nature of my relationship with Lucy. I nodded, unsure of what else to say, but the peculiar glint in his eyes made me uncomfortable.

"You've been a good friend to her," Mr. Thomas continued. "And for that, I'm grateful."

"Sir, Lucy means everything to me," I admitted quietly. "I just want her to be happy."

"And she is, John," he said kindly. "Because of you."

I felt my chest tighten with emotion. Before I could respond, the sudden sound of clattering metal startled us both. We turned in unison to the doorway, where Lucy stood, wide-eyed, the metal food carrier she had dropped clutched in her hands.

"John? Dad?" Her voice carried a mix of shock and confusion. "What's going on?"

"Everything's fine, darling," Mr. Thomas said with a calm smile.

Lucy's eyes flicked between her father and me, suspicion growing. "John, what are you doing here?"

"I just needed to speak with your father," I replied, trying to sound casual. "About the sunglasses he gave me."

Her brow furrowed, her gaze sweeping over me as if she were searching for something more. "Oh. Well, I didn't expect to find you here," she said, her voice tinged with disbelief.

She handed her father the lunchbox, looking slightly frazzled. "You forgot this at home, Dad."

"Ah, thanks, sweetheart," Mr. Thomas said, chuckling.

Lucy glanced at me again, her expression softening. "Are you ready for your gig tonight at the Cavern?"

I grinned. "As ready as I'll ever be. Thanks for the luck."

"You'll smash it," she said with a small, encouraging smile.

An awkward silence followed before I finally spoke up. "Lucy, would you like me to walk you to the station?"

Her eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, I thought she might accept. But then she shook her head, a faint smile on her lips. "No, John, I'm all right. You've got things to prepare for."

I nodded, hiding my disappointment. "All right then. But, thanks again."

Lucy gave me a final glance before heading out the door, leaving me alone with her father. I turned to Mr. Thomas, who was watching me with a knowing look.

"Good luck tonight, John," he said, his voice sincere.

"Thank you, sir," I replied, feeling a surge of confidence. Both Lucy and her father believed in me, and that was all I needed.

As I left the shop, the nervousness I had felt earlier faded, replaced by a growing sense of purpose. Tonight was important, but knowing I had both their well-wishes gave me the courage I needed.