“Is it over yet?” Sarah enquired over the top of the menu she was only pretending to read.
“I don’t know.” Replied Liz, drawing circles with a fork on the red and white, chequered table cloth.
“Well, What do you think?” Sarah tried to pry out something more than the hundredth ‘I don’t know’ in a row.
“I don’t want it to be over, I guess. But I know it’s not going to work out.” Liz shrugged, still feigning nonchalance.
“Why, what’d he say today?” Sarah asked, slamming down the wooden menu.
“Nothing.” Liz said, absently twirling a strand of hair in her fingers.
“What do you mean?” Sarah squinted, thoroughly perplexed and equally exasperated. Yet it was nothing compared to the anger she felt in her friend’s behalf.
“It’s just that he hasn’t been in touch much lately”. Liz said with the same faraway air.
“I’ll get you a cup of coffee.” Sarah got up decisively.
“Does this mean it’s over then?” asked Liz, sipping her coffee a few minutes later.
“I think it should be. You know better than me that he doesn’t treat you right.” Came the prompt reply.
“Does anyone ever?” Liz sighed, licking away at her milk moustache and nibbling on the complimentary cookie.
“Maybe, maybe not. Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t hold out hope. Atleast, that way we protect ourselves from the ones who don’t.”
“And stay alone?” Liz whined, trying to hide from the glare aimed at her by seeking shelter behind her cup.
“And stay strong.” Sarah pulled away the other’s cup, making her look into her eyes.
“Hmm.” Liz finally nodded her approval, always gracious in defeat. Though that did not stop her from stealing the cookie off Sarah’s plate too. She could not be blamed. They were divine.
“Hmm!” Sarah reiterated with pursed lips and folded arms, just to drive the point further home.
“The Barista is kind of cute though!” Winked Liz, with the hint of a smile threatening to form at the corners of her lips.
“Yep, definitely over! We’re switching to wine tonight.” Sarah said, grabbing her friend’s hand and pulling her along.
Laughing, with arms entwined, they left the little coffee shop.
Vika watched them for a moment till they turned round a corner and disappeared from view. Then she sighed and smiled while clearing the table, mentally patting her back for adding her special, “pick-me-up” cookies to their plates because God knew the girls needed some sugary love.
Then, still smiling, she went behind the counter, walked up to the charmer manning the coffee machine and gave a quick, warm hug to her husband of 49 years.
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