“Sorry, you’ll have to forgive me,” she muttered. Returning to the table where she had been sitting, she took a handkerchief from her bag and began wiping her tears as if trying to stem the flow. Kiyoshi looked at her anxiously. She sniffed, put on a brave face and smiled.

“Well, the truth is that I thought my husband was going to break up with me today,” she said.

“...What?” Kiyoshi couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

Her words were totally unexpected.

It was such a shock, he thought, Have I traveled back to a completely alternative reality?

“Oh, umm...”

Although he felt the need to say something, no words came from his mouth. To play for time, he grabbed the coffee cup and took a sip of coffee. Clearly much cooler than just a while ago, it was no more than lukewarm.

“If I am not intruding, could you elaborate a little?” The request that popped out of Kiyoshi’s mouth was an expression he often used. It made Kimiko chuckle.

“You sound like a detective!” she observed with tear-reddened eyes.

“Only if you feel comfortable talking to me about it, of course.”

He had slipped for a moment into using police lingo, but he felt unable to return to the present without some explanation for Kimiko’s tears. Sometimes people will only confide in someone they trust, but other times they need the listener to be a complete stranger.

Kiyoshi did not say anything more. He simply waited for Kimiko to respond. He couldn’t exactly insist that she tell him. Time was running out, but he had a feeling she would reply. Kimiko stood in front of the table she had been sitting at.

The silence was broken by Kaname arriving with a delicious-smelling coffee.

“Shall I put it here?” She resourcefully placed the coffee not on the table where Kimiko was sitting but instead on the one where Kiyoshi sat.

Kimiko did not hesitate in her reply. “That will be fine.”

Kaname placed the coffee and the bill on Kiyoshi’s table and once again stepped off into the kitchen.

Gripping her bag, Kimiko walked over to Kiyoshi’s table.

“Do you mind if I join you?” she asked with one hand on the chair facing him.

“No, of course not,” Kiyoshi replied with a smile. “...So?” he prompted.

She took a quiet, deep breath.

“For the last six months or so, my husband has constantly looked grim, and we haven’t had one proper conversation,” she began.

“He is often not home because of work, and lately, even when he is home, all he says is, uh-huh, okay, sure, sorry, I’m tired tonight...”

She once again brought her handkerchief to her eyes. “Today, he told me he had something important to discuss. I thought that for sure he was going to say he wanted to end the marriage,” she explained, her voice quavering.