“It’s fine,” I say lowly, shaking off the emotions rocking through my body and easing the tension at the table. “There’s no reason for us to get into this.” I don’t look at either of them, blowing on the hot coffee and reluctantly drinking it. I don’t taste it on the way down, though.

“Well, what do you think?” Maddie asks me and then she puts down her own cup. The coffee shop on Madison Avenue is fairly empty, probably due to the rain and chill of the late fall in the air.

As the shop door opens with a small chime and the busy sounds of the street flood into the small space for a moment, I think of how to answer her.

I don’t know what to say.

I think he cheated on me.

I think he’s sorry and he regrets it.

I think he loves me. No, I know he loves me.

And I feel like a fool for still loving him and wanting him.

That’s what’s in my head as I look around the small coffee shop, taking in every detail of the bright white chair rail and cream walls. The framed macro photographs of coffee pots and coffee beans keep my attention a little longer. I’ve never really noticed them before. This place is so familiar, yet I couldn’t have described any of these details if someone had asked me. I’ve been coming here for years and yet I’d never cared enough to look at what was right here in front of me.

“Why would he lie to you?” Maddie asks, pulling my attention back to her. She huffs, sitting back and causing the chair to grind against the floor as she does. “I just can’t imagine Evan doing this.” My shoulders rise with a deep intake of breath as I pick at a small square napkin on the table.

I roll the tiny piece I’ve ripped off between my forefinger and thumb, watching as it crumples into a small ball.

“I don’t know why,” I answer softly. I can feel all the overwhelming sadness and betrayal rise up and make my throat tighten as I try to come up with a response. “Maybe I’m stupid, but I can’t remember him ever lying to me before.” I swallow thickly and flick the tiny ball onto the table. “Not like this.” Defeat drips from my words.

“Sorry,” I tell them and wipe under my tired eyes, hating that I could possibly feel the telltale prick of tears behind them given how much I’ve already cried. “I tried not to let it …” I can’t finish. I watch as the rain batters the large glass window in the front of the shop and I slip my internal armor back on.