Willow had gone into her favorite cafe that Tuesday morning with a spring in her step. She’d had a lovely time at Nerdnite on Monday – oh, the heaven of going out in the evening as a nerd and having it be a good thing. The latest round of budgetary threats at her government department turned out to be hot air. Â A colleague had asked her to collaborate on a paper. She felt chic, for once, in her cobalt tunic and leggings. And then, it happened. Like a fish to the face, an arrow to the heart, curdling in the cream: there was her ex.
Louche and handsome as ever, Wayland didn’t see her, at first. He was leaning towards the lovely woman at the same table, showing her something on an iPad.
It had to happen sometime, Wellington being so small. Willow has heard of breakups including negotiations about who got which bar, which restaurant, which cafe. Why hadn’t she thought of that? At least she looked all right But her blue tunic faded before the sleek daring of the sapphire-blue locks that Wayland’s companion toyed with, flirtatiously. If they were together so early in the morning, Wayland never a morning person, that must mean, that had to mean –
Caught looking, Willow lost her courage. She gives a wavering smile and a little wave, and dashes away without her coffee.
Tags: romance · social mores · wayland · willow1 Comment
tch. well, evidently it happens to everyone.
if my experience holds, seven or eight years from now Wayland will, unbelievably, have had enough bad press that he backs off of his usual haunts and marries someone fairly wonderful. whether or not he then screws around and up is about 50/50.