Chapter 25

Helen’s face went even paler, her voice trembling as she spoke. "I’m sorry… I just—"

Delilah placed a hand on her forehead, closing her eyes as she processed Helen’s request. 

The frustration simmered in her, but beneath it, she felt a small pang of sympathy. 

Helen’s voice had sounded so desperate. But this was more than just a favor—it was a breach of the very foundations they had all agreed on.

"Helen," she said slowly, dropping her hand and opening her eyes, "the rules exist to protect us, all of us. If we start bending them now, then what’s to stop us from doing it again? And what’s to stop someone else from asking the same thing later?"

Ruby leaned back, crossing her arms. "I mean, if we’re going to break every rule for everyone’s convenience, we may as well quit."

"Stop it, Ruby," Delilah said firmly, cutting her off again. She turned her gaze to Helen, and though her tone was gentle, her eyes were firm. "I understand that this isn’t easy. We all have struggles, and I’m sorry you’re going through one right now. But the rules are in place for a reason. They aren’t just guidelines—they’re boundaries we’ve all agreed to respect."

Helen looked down, her shoulders slumping. 

Her fingers trembled as she fumbled with the edges of the card she had placed on the table. 

"I understand… I just didn’t know where else to turn." Her voice cracked slightly.

Delilah took a deep breath, her gaze softening a fraction. "I get it, Helen. I do. But I can’t change the rules."

Then, Delilah managed a small, understanding smile. "But we can talk things out, right? We're co-workers… almost like friends." 

She looked from Helen to Ruby, hoping for some sign of agreement. "We can give advice, support each other. Isn’t that what we're here for?"

Ruby’s expression was anything but supportive. 

She crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing with a slight roll. 

Delilah caught the edge of Ruby's gaze, noticing how it made Helen shrink a little, her fingers fidgeting at her sides, her shoulders slumping.

"Right, Ruby?" Delilah pressed gently, trying to bring Ruby into the fold.

Ruby turned, arching an eyebrow. "Right? Delilah, what do you even know about marriage?" She scoffed, and her voice was sharp, each word a little dagger. "You’re not even married."

Delilah felt a response at the tip of her tongue, but she bit down on it. 

None of them—none except Aunt Mary—knew about her marriage. 

There was something almost amusing about the secret, the way she kept that part of her life sealed off, even from these two women who thought they knew her. 

And did it even count as marriage? 

An arranged marriage wrapped in duty, barely even lived… 

She couldn’t help an inward scoff at the thought. 

Marco might have held the title of her husband, but the connection felt little more than a well-crafted agreement. 

There was no point in mentioning it to Ruby or Helen now, especially not here.

Helen flushed, casting her eyes down as she wrapped her arms around herself. 

"It’s… it’s fine." She took a shaky breath, the courage in her voice barely there. "I’ll handle it."

Delilah felt a tug of sympathy for her. She wanted to offer more, to find some way to bridge the growing space between them. 

But Helen’s words were final, a soft, almost invisible wall. Delilah respected it, deciding not to push.

"Great," Ruby muttered, just as her phone emitted a sharp beep. 

She glanced down, her face lighting up with sudden curiosity. "Hm. The CCTV just alerted me—someone’s outside the café." 

Her lips twisted into a slight smile, though the message seemed anything but comforting.

Helen visibly relaxed, her shoulders releasing their tension. "Maybe it’s a customer?" 

She made a move toward the door, ready to serve, the hint of nerves seeming to vanish with the distraction.

Ruby quickly blocked her path. "No, more like a burglar." Her voice dropped to a whisper, an odd mixture of excitement and amusement in her tone.

Delilah’s eyes widened. "What? Let me see."

Ruby held up her phone, her finger hovering over the play button. "See for yourself."

They huddled together, watching as the grainy footage from the CCTV showed a man standing outside, clearly trying to get in. 

Dressed in a black T-shirt, dark jeans, and a leather jacket, he had an air of confidence even in the way he held the handle, as though he expected the door to obey him. 

But the door held firm, refusing to budge.

A faint, muffled click filled the silence, echoing through the room. 

They watched as he twisted the handle, his face barely moving in response—except for the tightening of his jaw. 

A rattle of the handle reverberated as he applied force, his posture leaning in, clearly testing his strength against the café’s lock.

Helen’s mouth parted in a nervous exhale. "He looks… determined."

Ruby chuckled, though it was a hollow sound. "Determined? More like desperate. That’s not the face of someone just popping by for coffee."

Delilah stared, her brow furrowing as the man’s image took shape. 

His features remained obscured by sunglasses, but she couldn’t ignore the faint familiarity in the way he moved. 

He gave the door a last attempt, his eyes darting around as if scanning the place, muscles tensing as he leaned into the door.

It hit her like a jolt. 

"Marco," she whispered, her voice barely audible but laced with shock.

Ruby turned. "Marco? Is he your… friend?" 

"Ah, yes," Delilah replied quickly, attempting to sound casual despite her racing heart. "Marco's my friend. We go way back." She forced a weak smile, hoping to appear nonchalant.

Ruby and Helen exchanged a skeptical glance, but Delilah's expression seemed normal enough to them. 

Ruby let out a disbelieving huff, her tone more curious than accusatory. "Why would he be trying to break into the café?"

Delilah's composure faltered for a split second before she regained control. 

"I have no idea," she said with a shrug, trying to sound indifferent.