Working out the kinks.
|Via Bob Jagendorf, Flickr.|
Ignoring the question, Eve poured coffee into Ana’s mug and trudged to the other side of the counter to deliver a bill, pick up her tips. By the time she came back, Ana had drained her mug.
Evie refilled it, shrugged. “We fought. He left.”
“You don’t seem too broken up about it.”
“Heart’s not it.” Evie swiped at the counter with a cloth that smelled like old cheese. “It’d been coming for a while. The last half-year has been like tearing off a hangnail. We weren’t even sleeping in the same bed. It’s good that it’s done.”