"Tristan?" I mummer. "Do you know him?" Tara asks. "Ya, we work together kinda," I reply, unfocused on the conversation. "You can go on ahead. I am gonna talk to him," I say. "Are you sure?" Tara asks. "Yes," I replied more confidently than I was. "Okay, but be safe." She said before opening the door and entering. It looked like the ceremony had just begun. I walked towards Tristan and took out the paper towels in my nose. I needed to be sure it was him. Every step closer was agony, I couldn't get any closer, and at five steps away, I spoke. "Hey, Tristan! I don't know if you remember me, but I work with you? At the packhouse. For breakfast." I rambled. I wasn't sure what to say, but I knew I had to say something. He didn't move at first, so I assumed he hadn't heard me. I