Lara watches him devour the hash brown with a mixture of amusement and pity. The way he attacks the food suggests a man starved for comfort as much as calories. "You are like a stray cat finding its first meal in days," she remarks with a slight chuckle. She sits back down across from him and takes a sip of her decaf while he focuses intently on chewing. The diner's usual late-night clientele includes truck drivers grabbing coffee before heading out and college students cramming for exams– but right now Lara seems content to give Zack her undivided attention. "Hunger makes everything sharper," she observes quietly. "Yeah, my girlfriend is going to be upset," Zack says casually, imagining Anna's worried face. "She has been nagging me to sleep better the last couple of days."
Lara's eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the casual mention of a girlfriend. She sets down her decaf mug with a clatter, giving Zack a once-over that combines maternal approval with professional curiosity. "Girlfriend, huh?" she repeats slowly, a small smile playing on her lips. "Well, isn't that interesting timing? First time you have mentioned anyone serious since you started frequenting this place." Her tone carries no judgement, only genuine interest in seeing the brooding young man finally show signs of settling down. The diner counter has witnessed to many lonely-hearts seeking comfort in late-night conversation to be shocked by romance entering the equation. "So, tell me about this lucky lady," Lara encourages gently, leaning forward on her elbows. "What is her name? Does she know what she is getting into dating someone who fights demons in his sleep?"
"Anna. We been dating for less than a week," Zack said with a tender voice. "She knows I am a troublemaker." Zack picked up the burger on his plate. Lara's expression brightens considerably at hearing the name. "Anna," she repeats thoughtfully, testing the syllables. "Pretty name fits a pretty girl I bet." Her gaze grows softer as she observes Zack's tenderness when speaking about his girlfriend. The way his voice changes– losing its defensive edge and gaining warmth– tells her volumes about this relationship. "A trouble makes who talks about his girlfriend like that probably isn't half bad," she says with a knowing smile. She tops off Zack's coffee mug again. "Most guys in your position would be complaining about how demanding women are. You sound like you appreciate having someone worry about you." The diner's front door chimes announcing a new customer arriving– an older man in work boots carrying a thermos. Lara waves hello without taking her eyes off Zack completely. "So, what does Miss Anna thing of your late-night study habits?"
"I am not used to having someone worry about me," Zack muttered. "She scolds me about not sleeping enough and not studying enough." He takes a big bite of the burger. Lara's expression softens at his admission, her professional demeanour giving way to maternal warmth. She reaches across the counter to gently pat his shoulder, a gesture that feels both maternal and comforting. "That is because you have never let anyone get close enough to worry about you before," she said quietly but firmly. "Most people don't open up their vulnerabilities until they trust someone completely." Her gaze holds his steadily, challenging him to deny it. The diner's ambient noises fade into background static as Lara focuses entirely on his emotional state. "You are used to being the strong one, protecting yourself from getting hurt again," she continues gently. "But eventually even walls crumble when the right person comes along."
"Well, what do I do now?" Zack asked frustrated. "I have waited ten years to be with this girl. And I am trying so hard to be better for her. But how can I if I am fighting these demons?" Lara listens intently, her own experiences with grief and relationships colouring her response. She leans forward on her forearms, her expression becoming more personal that professional. "How do you fight demons?" she asks quietly. "The same way anyone fights them, honey. One step at a time." Her voice gains confidence as she speaks from experience rather than just observation. "First, you accept that they are real. They aren't going away just because you have a beautiful girlfriend waiting for you at home. Grief isn't something you 'get over'. It is something you learn to live with." She gestures toward the door where other customers are arriving but keeps her focus solely on Zack. "Second, you stop expecting yourself to be perfect overnight. Being better for Anna doesn't mean erasing your past entirely. It means letting her see the parts of you that are still healing."
"The parts that are still healing?" Zack repeated. He runs his fingers through his messy blond hair in frustration. "How would I even do that? It is not like it is an easy subject to bring up." Lara watches his frustrated gesture, her own expression remaining calm and reassuring. "It doesn't have to be a grand declaration," she says gently, adjusting her position on the stool. "Sometimes the biggest moments happen in tiny little pieces." She picks up a napkin from the dispenser, folding it methodically between her fingers. "Start small. Maybe it is telling her you had a bad dream and needed to talk about it for five minutes. Maybe it is asking if she minds listening to music that reminds you of happier times." Her voice takes on a more personal tone as she shares from her own experience. "My husband passed away six years ago, and sometimes when I am having a rough night, I will just ask our daughter to sit with me on the couch without explaining why. Just being present helps." The diner begins filling up with early morning regulars– truck drivers ordering coffees and students comparing schedules for their morning classes.
"Thanks," Zack mutters and take another bite of his burger. As Lara gets busy with other customers, Zack finishes his food and leaves Lara a generous tip before leaving. Lara pockets the generous cash tip Zack left on the counter, her expression thoughtful as she watched him exit the diner. The morning rush begins picking up pace– truckers arguing politics over coffee, college students huddling together over textbooks. "Poor kid," she murmurs to herself while wiping down the counter. "Carrying around ghosts from his childhood. Hope this Anna knows what she is getting into."