I’m not. Gretchen wished phones were capable of bold lettering for texts. I can’t. Not yet.

She’s obviously not coming. Stop torturing yourself and come home. We’ll have ice cream and curse the day Jax was born. It’ll be therapeutic.

She shook her head like Amanda could see her. She couldn’t explain her feelings. Gretchen just couldn’t leave. Keep the ice cream in the freezer. She stashed her phone away and took a sip of her cold cappuccino. The bitterness clung to the back of her tongue. She heard the door open, and she turned, her last bit of hopefulness hanging on the new visitor. She made awkward eye contact with the old man walking in. In her slight discomfort, she felt an energy from the far wall of the café.

Jax sat motionless, no more than twenty feet away, with her eyes on Gretchen.

Gretchen stared, unable to move or think or speak beyond wondering how long she had been there. Gretchen’s heart started to pound. She felt so much hope and fear in that moment, but her body was paralyzed, too afraid to get up and find out what Jax’s intentions were. Instead, Gretchen raised her hand and offered a sheepish wave. When Jax didn’t wave back, she pointed to the empty chair across from her. Again, Jax remained motionless.

“Not making this easy, are you?” Gretchen said under her breath. She gathered her purse, jacket, and chilled cappuccino and walked slowly to the other table, trying to gauge Jax’s feelings with each step. She used to be able to read Jax better than any other person in the room, but not this time. She placed her cup down gingerly, less worried about spilling than she was of startling Jax. “Is this seat taken?”

Jax barely looked at her when she shook her head.

Gretchen settled in and waited for Jax to talk, but words never came even as the minutes ticked away. She started to worry the café would close before they acknowledged the elephant standing right between them. She looked over at Jax, who sat in her thick leather jacket and sweater beneath. She wondered if Jax was hot or if she even cared about being comfortable. Gretchen tugged at the cuff of her own thermal Henley.

“So…” Gretchen said, hoping the simple starter would open the floodgates of conversation, but all she got was a drip. “How long have you been here?”

“Since a little after eight fifteen.”

“I’m happy you came.”

Jax’s eyes seemed more focused now when they met hers. “I don’t know why I did.”

“I hope you came because you wanted to.”

“I just read your letter today.” Jax shifted. She appeared more uncomfortable than Gretchen had ever seen her.

“I sent it days ago.”

Jax shrugged. “If I had read it days ago, I probably would’ve never shown up tonight.”