✽ Mandy ✽
I still went to the coffee shop to meet with Paul even though my phone stayed quiet all morning. Paul hadn’t sent his usual upbeat messages. No ‘good morning’ message, no museum joke, no question about what I was baking this week. I told myself he was busy. People got busy. But the silence made my stomach feel tight as I walked down the block toward the café with my hands shoved into my coat pockets. Inside, the café smelled like cinnamon and roasted beans. The barista called out names and slid drinks across the counter like a practiced routine. I chose the same table that Paul and I had used before. It felt safer because it was familiar. I set my phone beside my napkin and ordered a peach iced tea, even though it was cold outside. But as the minutes ticked on by, my stomach san
