Distant

She had a suspicion that things would have to change.

He was still looking at her with those puppy dog eyes. She looked away. As she had predicted, she was sure things were going to get awkward.

“You’re very quiet this morning,” he said.

‘Am I?” she said.

“Yes, you are, you seem a bit distant somehow.”

“I’m fine thanks, really,” she gave him a faint smile.

“That’s good. As long as things are, well, you know, still OK.”

She became annoyed. “I don’t know what you mean. Sure I’m OK. Why shouldn’t I be?”

He shrugged with a look of embarrassment. He leant forward. “It’s, you know, like I said, you seem a bit distant. Let’s face it, it’s not the same is it, between us, I mean? You don’t seem to want to talk anymore. Don’t think I haven’t noticed, you look away a lot. I don’t know if it’s something I’ve done or something I’ve said.” He sniffed. He looked as though he was going to cry.

She looked around and let out a long sigh.

“OK,” she said, tapping the side of the barista’s machine. “Just a cappuccino, thanks.”

She’d really have to find another café, she thought.

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