Bitter and jaded were certainly not new words in Isabelle’s vocabulary, in fact she’d had quite some time to get very well acquainted with them. In fact at the moment she was far more acquainted with them than she had ever hoped to be. She sat alone in the café again, drumming her fingers on the table again, waiting for him again. Her jaw was becoming sore from clenching and unclenching her teeth; she was now practically seething in anger. Her coffee was now cold and bitter and Isabelle scoffed to herself at it the metaphorical resemblance she shared with it. Often she questioned why she did this to herself every time, why she stuck around and why she let him do what he did to her every time.

She played what would happen in her mind; Daniel would walk through the doors to the café as though there was no wrong in the world his saucy grin plastered on his face. He would then smile at her affectionately and sit down across from her and sigh, “Hello.” he would say and look around for the waitress and order his tea. The man didn’t even like coffee for Christ’s sakes. Then he would look at her again and wait for her to say something back.

“Hello,” she would say back, “where were you?” every angry thing she had planned to say to him would have left her mind; she chastised herself every time for not having the courage.

A brief look of annoyance would cross his eyes before he’d answer, “I lost track of time,” and she knew in the back of his mind he was saying that it wasn’t any of her business anyway. She would nod the hurt crawling up the back of her throat determined that she would not loose her cool and demand the things she desired from him the most right there in the middle of the café embarrassing the living hell out of him. Oh, but how she wanted to, the things she knew he hated the things she knew would hurt him the most, how she longed to do all of them right then and there.

He didn’t even realize what he did, what he’d made her want to do, he knew none of it and he probably never would and even if he did she was sure he didn’t even care all that much.

“So,” he would say letting his words dangle in the air between them meaning he wanted her to say something because god forbid he start a conversation on his own.

“So,” she’d call back not falling for the bait this time.

A steady silence would fill the air between the two, the conversations of the other couples in the room would roar in her ears. Why wasn’t it that easy anymore? Why was there never anything to say?

She looked at her watch for the hundredth time it seemed and there he came sauntering through the doors that stupid grin on his face, the one she had pictured moments before and now wanted to slap right off his goddamned face. She sat there in silence watching him as he sat down. “Hello,” she said it first this time.

“Hello,” he replied back shifting under her intense gaze. She continued to stare at him silently confronting him about everything yet not saying a word, he knew, oh did he know.

“So,” he said trying to turn the tables back to the way he liked them.

She smiled at him and took a sip of her cold coffee and stood up and placing a hand on his shoulder as she walked by him. She had told him more with that gesture than she could have with any words. He would come after her, just like he had before, both of them new it but this time she wouldn’t let him forget, she would say the things that she felt, and she knew, oh did she know things would never be the same.