text: Its quiet here today. It’s a gloomy Monday and most people are out working. But here I am, pretending sitting at a coffee shop means I’m actually studying for my college courses. I see him sitting at the other end of the room. Really just a couple round tables away, it’s a small place. The crisp air of fall coming through the door as people walk in, thrusting and whirling my free hairs around in the wind. I have my work in front of me and I’m ready to reply to emails. But am I? I’m distracted by his perfectly sculpted hair that also looks as though he didn’t even try. The beautiful smile in his eye as he laughs with his friends around the table. I wonder what he finds funny. Would he think I was funny? I have to get back to work.. but maybe just a few more minutes of him. I saw him again today. First Monday and now Wednesday, what a week. This time he was alone. Focusing sternly on whatever was on the screen in front of him. He wore glasses today and looked divine. He has a bit of stubble this time too. He must be busy. I wonder what he does throughout his days. I wonder why I’m so curious about this random man at a coffee shop. I don’t pay attention to anyone else around. In fact I purposely avoid eye contact but with him.. with him.. I want to make eye contact. Maybe he’ll feel what I feel when I notice he’s here. I can feel my heart starting to beating faster as I let my curiosity lead my mind. Its gotten colder throughout the week and now I’m bundled in a scarf and a pair of my warmest pajamas, even inside and yes, even inside a local place where most people wear actual day clothes. I occasionally put my hands on my warm tea to heat up a bit. Sometimes its too hot without the cover but I’d rather slightly burn my fingertips than be cold for one more second. As I hold my warm drink in my cold, stiff hands, I wonder what he likes to drink here. I don’t think I want to actually meet him. He’s probably nothing like what I can just make up in my head. Pretend a good man exists until I actually find one. Someone paid it forward to that man today. They bought his drink. Never have I been so jealous of someone. That woman spoke to him. Stealing him away from the spare seconds he has from that blue screen to possibly look over my way. He sits back down, alone again. More stressed than usual. I suppose it’s been a hard week considering its Friday now. I stare at him unwillingly, my eyes begging him to tell me what’s wrong and how I can help. For once, he looks back. I stare, frozen. What do I do? Do I look down? Do I maintain eye contact? Before I can decide he places his few things on the table and chair beside him and walks over to me. He sits down in front of me and in his heavenly voice says “Everything’s going to be alright.” Well, “ok,” I thought. “How are you feeling?” he says, probably because I look like a ghost at the moment. Still stunned by his elegance. “I..I’m..I’m ok.” I manage to mutter. My voice is rougher than I recall. It sounded like I was sick. “Would you like some more tea? I think your out - considering you haven’t touched yours in a while” He claims. I look at my cup on the table in front of me wondering how long it’s been since I touched it. “How do you know I haven’t touched it recently?” I say as I question his motives behind noticing my drink. His response, “Well, I only sit a few feet away every day. I’m bound to notice some details, right?”, was as good as one could hope. He noticed me. In all my glory that is messy hair and pants with splatters of who knows what on them. Probably due to my awkward silence of not knowing how to respond, he says “I’m gonna get on back to my emails here, but I’ll be around” as he leaves my table with a smile and floats across the floor as if he’s a real angel. As he leaves my presence I start to notice the cold chill again. I look out the window to my left to see the rain on the leaves dripping to the already wet concrete and drift off into a blank mind of bliss. I can focus some other time. Today starts the weekend, I got to the shop extra early this morning. Good, he isn’t here yet. I wanted to beat him here. See how he acts when he’s just getting started in the day. He finally comes in and sits down. This time, next to me. “Early riser today, huh?” he says, jokingly, while setting his things to the side of the table suggesting I’m his main focus today. “it’s good to see you. How are you feeling today?” he asks as the barista hands him the drink he never even had to order. “Here you are Mr. Shevrin” she says before she walks away to go back behind the counter. After a slightly awkward pause, “I’m much better nowadays. I seem to have found a friend” I say looking at him directly so he knows I’m referring to him and his kind gesture of sitting with me. He smiles at me. It has got to be the most beautiful thing on this planet. “You know, I think that girl likes you. Free coffee.” I wink at him and nod to the barista. He laughs an angelic laugh and claims “Well then I don’t think she’ll like I’m talking to you much, now will she?” He smiles big, as do I. He follows up my unending smile with a question, “What do they put in your drink that makes you so happy? I need some of that myself.” I chuckle and try to be witty in response. “Oh, just some of that herbal nonsense. But it does the trick.” I say. “Well, I am very happy to hear that. Now get some rest.” Then he plants a kiss on my forehead and walks away. As he’s walking, I’m bewildered. Why did this man just kiss me? Why is he telling me to get rest? “Excuse me!” I shout as he is halfway across the room. “Why did you just do that?” I ask, feeling a rise of anger. He stops and looks back. He slowly starts to walk back over, “What do you mean, honey? What did I do?” Honey? What is he saying? Am I dreaming? “You kissed me on the damn forehead and walked away. Like that’s a normal thing to do!” I reply, with much intended attitude. His response is one that gave me chills. I froze over again like the first time all over. “You mean to tell me, I can’t kiss my wife on the forehead before she goes to bed?” he asks. Wife? I’m not his wife? Who’s his wife? “Well I’m not your wife. You’ve got the wrooooong lady, Mr.” I say annoyed that he would pretend to make such a mistake. “No ma’am. I don’t believe I do.” He says as he pulls up a chair. “Why, I’ve been kissing my wife’s forehead for 62 years and I gotta tell ya, it’s that forehead you got right there” as he points to my forehead and then gently caresses my loose hair behind my ear. “62 years? Why I... I’m 22.” I say, confused by his actions and made up stories. “Now listen. I know you’ve gone through a lot recently. But I will draw the line at you not being my wife anymore. We are sticking it until the end, you hear me?” he says with a slight of confidence but mostly concern. “What’s going on?” I say as the lights get a little brighter and I start getting cold again, the door has just opened letting the cold air flow through the room. “ok, Mrs. Shevrin, it’s time for tea.” My so called ‘husband’ reacts to the woman by standing up and pulling her aside. Quite rude if you ask me. “Did she call me Mrs.?” I whisper to myself. I look down at the table. Noticing a food tray like from a cafeteria as a kid. I don’t remember eating here today. I look back up at the man and woman, trying to hear what they’re saying. “she’s not remembering.” I hear him say quietly. The nurses even less subtle whisper responded “she’ll get her check up in a few hours. I’ll let the doctor know. For now, don’t worry. If you’re stressed, so is she.” Then she proceeds to walk over to me and place my drink on the table. “This is for you when you’re ready. Just make sure you’re drinking it all within the hour, ok?” “ok,” I say, “Why do I need to do that? It’s just my tea. You got expired tea or something?” I half-jokingly ask. She smiles gently, “No, Mrs. Shevrin, it has the medicine in it that helps you not feel so groggy.” “Helps me..? What’s going on? What kind of place is this? Groggy?” I start trying to get up but can’t seem to move very well. I start getting dizzy and fall back into a soft but firm piece of furniture. I wake up. Lights dim, its dark outside. I rub my eyes and look around the room. My bed sheets are cold on my legs but it kind of feels good, like I’ve been sweating in my sleep. I see my husband across the way and smile. He looks just like he used to in our favorite coffee shop. We met there, just 64 short years ago. I can see he’s working on something from the computer screen reflecting on his glasses. The nurse comes in and hands him his daily coffee. She’s always been so kind, if I didn’t know any better id think she has a crush on him. “Charlie, can you grab me my drink? I can’t quite reach it.” I ask with my raspy, old voice. How did I get so old? I see him set the computer in the chair next to him, put his hands on either side of his seat and lift himself up. “Sure thing, honey” he says as he makes his way across the chilled vinyl flooring with his slippers. “How did you sleep?” he asks. “Well, you know, I don’t quite remember going to sleep. Did you go home and get some rest?” I respond with concern. How long has he been here? “Oh sweetie,” he kisses me on the forehead, “Yes, I did go get some rest. But you’re my home and you know I don’t like to be away from home too long.” He says raising one eyebrow in an almost flirtatious manner. I blush, feeling as cherished as I always have in his life.