He was sitting across from her, theoretically drinking coffee. In theory, this was a casual meeting. After looking down, his eyes aimed at his shoes, then up, looking directly past Sayonara (an unfortunate name for a woman who seeked some sort of permanency), he finally spoke.
“So, is it true you are leaving in a couple of weeks? For good?”
Again, he looked to see if there was anything on or even under his shoe, silently promising himself he would drink his coffee and walk out the door if the answer was just “Yes.”
“Roberto, I don’t think so. I have too much to finish… It’s not as simple as I thought it would be.”
“Aren’t you going to drink your coffee? After all, you invited me for coffee, you know.” She smiled.
He looked directly at her, one hand in his coat jacket, frustrated at how lighthearted she seemed, when she could be dead right now and he felt like he was being run over by a train. It was the velvet box in his pocket that soothed him as the relief of Sayo’s answer hit him. He had more time.