The next day, I woke up alone. The boy had left me a note on the table thanking me for my care. My eyes drifted toward the door, and I sighed as people walked past without a second glance. Dutifully, I tied my apron around my waist, and sat up at the counter. A few hours later, I couldn’t take the monotony any longer and closed the café for the day. With a deep breath, I stepped outside into the sunshine. I meandered through the almost empty streets, weaving through alleys and admiring flower gardens. Eventually, I came across a small playground hidden away at the very end of a long street. Without any children in it, the park seemed melancholy and dead. Hesitantly, I sat on a rusty swing and watched birds land on the slides and squirrels scamper across the woodchips.

“What are you doing here?” a rough voice called out from behind me. I didn’t answer and my heart sank slightly. It was the blond boy from the day before.

“When I ask you a question, I’d like you to answer it,” the blond said, sitting down on the swing next to me.

“This is a public park,” I said coldly, refusing to look at him.

“You think you’re so above me, don’t you?” the blond snorted. “There’s no need to be formal, .” I glared at him, refusing to give in to my mounting anger. He seemed to realize that he’d gotten under my skin and smirked.

“I can’t really see what Kai likes so much about you,” he taunted. “Uptight, ugly, and useless.”

“Don’t call him Kai,” I said tightly, ignoring his jabs.

“That’s his name,” the blond said easily, twisting the swing chain between his fingers.

“No,” I said firmly, “it’s not.” The blond looked me calculatingly, and whistled.

“So he tattled to you and spilled out his guts,” he said, with a sneer. I didn’t answer.

“Of course he would,” the blond said, in disgust. “He’s a ing coward. Last time, he hid behind his rich daddy. Now he’s running off to the little girl in the café.”

“Don’t talk like you know him,” I said angrily, gripping the swing seat.

“And I’m sure you know all about him,” he said, “after all those cuddle sessions in your café. Maybe you should open it up to the general public. You’d earn a lot more money that way.” A sharp sound rang out through the park and the birds flitted away in a panic. The blond rubbed at his reddened cheek, and I stood up to leave.

“What would you do,” he said, less mockingly, “if the person who’d almost blinded you walked away scot-free?”  I stopped, and I could hear his ragged breaths as his anger got the better of him.

“Don’t think he’s a saint,” the blond said, his voice rising. “He deserved what he got.” I thought of the boy’s whispered apologies that slipped out during the night.

“Everyone looks at me,” he continued bitterly, “like I’m the bastard who’s at fault. It’s all because your precious Kai has his mental mother to gain sympathy votes.”

“You’re wrong,” I said, turning around. “He regrets what he did. He regrets hurting you so much that he wanted to bleed out in the rain last night.” The blonde boy looked at me, and for a moment, his eyes widened.

“You’re lying,” he said, trying to sound unaffected.

“I know he’s not a saint, but he’s not the devil you paint him out to be either,” I said, my heart softening. “I know that you aren’t a total bastard either.” The blond looked unconvinced, and I smiled slightly.

“You could’ve broken my wrist yesterday, but you didn’t. You could’ve trashed my café on your way out, or even during the night, but you didn’t,” I said. “You could’ve done a million things to me just now, but you didn’t.”

“I—” the blond’s voice faltered, and I continued for him. 

"No one is completely black," I said, remembering a past conversation. "And no one is ever completely white." The blond opened his mouth to speak, but closed it after a few moments.

“I just wanted you to know,” I said, in a gentler tone. “You’re always welcome back in my café.”

As I walked away, I thought I heard a whispered 'thank you' carried by the wind.