 She looked up from her newspaper as a couple rose from their table, put on their coats, and proceeded to the door. She did not recognize the woman, but she could hardly forget the man.
It was Marc, her ex-husband.
For a split second, she wondered whether he had seen her or not, but then, she remembered that she didn�t care. It was over long before it had even begun, she told herself. Sipping daintily of her coffee cup, she tapped her caporal against the edge of the tray nonchalantly, almost defiantly, as if daring anyone to even suggest that she had ever loved Marc.
He had nothing. Nothing attractive in the least. What could she have been thinking, she wondered. She chided herself for marrying him in the first place, but at least she had had enough sense to end it. Now, it seemed, he had tricked another woman into marrying him, but at least this time, she thought as her lips curled into a self-appreciative smirk, this new woman was not so fine a prize as she. Perhaps simple, doddering Marc could please her with his lackluster attempts at charm. She sneered inwardly at the thought of them.
Satisfied with her self-righteous conclusion, she lifted her head again to survey the caf�. The door opened again, and along with a puff of brisk air, a man entered. She peered at him momentarily, and once she realized who he was, her face lit into a furtive smile that showed her reluctance to convey emotions. The man spotted her and strode over to the table, the same conscious smile accompanying him.
�Hello, Jules,� she remarked coyly, still taking care to disguise her delight.
�Why, hello, my little cupcake,� Jules replied, playing the same decorous game.
There was a comfortable silence as Jules seated himself and motioned to the waiter for a cup of coffee. He then turned his attention back to the woman. �Ahh, Michelle. My beautiful flower.� He patted her hand and gave her the same smile, which was now partly melting into slushy, overemotional love.
Her well-tended poker face was also beginning to lose effect, as the corners of her mouth played up a bit and betrayed her. Her now-mawkish expression practically dripped onto the table as she sighed, �Oh, Jules! How lucky I am to have you! Someone as good as you, Jules!�
Jules took a swig of his coffee, and gazed back at her, a syrupy gaze that one might put on pancakes if it were liquefied. �You deserve nothing less, my little Bon Bon.� He knew he was good. As good as she thought herself to be. And she was good. He was good. It was all good. He smiled to himself.
�Jules� how glad I am that you came,� she breathed as she fascined her eyes adoringly upon his strong jaw, his rugged goatee, his deep eyes. What a fine face, her inner monologue sang to her. Much finer than Marc�s ever was, she thought with satisfaction. �Oh, Jules, you�ll never guess who was in the caf� before you came.�
�Oh, really,� he remarked mildly, preoccupied with altering his second cup of coffee to his precise liking. The initial displays of love had faded discreetly.
�My ex-husband Marc and his new wife, Andrea or whatever her name is. Something with an �A�,� she told him, as though expecting Jules to leap out of his chair and have a fit. Instead, Jules remained seated placidly in the chair, studying his fork.
�Oh. Lovely, dear. What did he have to say?�
�Well, I don�t know, Jules. I didn�t talk to him. I�m not even quite sure if he saw me.�
Jules really was disconcerned with the whole episode, but Michelle evidently enjoyed this topic, so he attempted to keep the conversation going. �What went wrong with you two, again?�
Michelle perked up at this question. �Well,� she began, pleased at the chance to elaborate, �He was just so boring, and charmless. Nothing like you, Jules. He could never make me happy.� With this final line, the same pathetically affectionate smile reemerged.
Jules was apparently pleased at this answer. �And I,� he asked rhetorically, �I make you happy?�
Michelle threw every fiber of her being whole-heartedly into her next words. �Oh, Jules! More than anything!� she continued dramatically. �Bland was my life before you, Jules! How I love, adore, cherish every minute with you! Love cannot even begin to describe-�
Jules cut her off by taking her hand and whispering, �That�ll do, Michelle. That will do.� He smiled chidingly at her. �Now, let�s not make a show of ourselves, all right, crumpet?�
Michelle quieted down. She knew that he loved her, and she loved him as much. And how happy she was. Happier than she ever was with Marc, she noted to herself triumphantly.
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