Maria:
He does not ask where I am.
He sends a location.
That is it.
No greeting, no explanation, no attempt to make it sound like anything other than what it is. I stare at the message for a second, then a little longer than necessary, as if something about it might soften if I give it time.
It does not.
Of course it does not.
I get there early. I tell myself it is because traffic was light, because I did not want to be late, because I had nothing else to do anyway. None of those feel entirely true, but they are convenient enough.
The place is quiet, the kind of quiet that feels intentional. People speak in low tones, movements are measured, everything arranged in a way that suggests no one here has anything urgent to worry about.
I pick a table by the window and sit.
I do not re
