She sat at the diner, waiting on his return. He was supposed to meet her at 12:00, and was already 15 minutes late. Her knees were crossed, but shaking the table as her toes tapped inpatiently. “Was he even coming?” she wondered. The café had felt relaxed, up until 12:00 hit. Then the aroma in the room quickly turned tense, as she started from the clock on the wall to the door. She was not sure what she would say when he finally arrived, but she knew that they both needed to say something to finish what they had started. She kept telling herself that she would wait no longer, and kept prepping herself to leave. She had no desire to have this talk, yet something kept her stuck to the chair.