He walked into the urban coffee shop, ducking past the unwelcoming stares of the younger, college crowd who tended to commandeer the open tables at the front for their studying. At least the stares felt unwelcoming, to him. He edged past the sea of laptops towards some booths in the back. She would meet him here. The back corner she had said. It was empty. He set down his coat and then crept back to the counter to quietly order a plain decaf. Back at the table, he waited, tracing the lid over and over with his index finger. What would she say? Just six months left. Then she walked in. She was still just as beautiful as the day they’d been married, in his mind. He stood briefly to catch her eye, managing a quick smile which was smashed to the floor when her gaze locked with his and turned cold.
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