Towards the End.(Short Story)

He leaned back on the chrome chair, stretched his legs out under the square black table and placed his mobile phone in front of him. He looked over to the counter at the back of the cafe at the cakes and muffins on display and the Italian biscuits in jars. He turned back to the glass windows and wondered if he had the guts to tell her today. He wanted to. By Christ he wanted to. He straightened up, his elbows on the table, his hands clasped together in front of his face. There'd been some good times, that's for sure. But what the heck. A man's got to do what a man's got to do.

The sliding glass door clanked open and Andrea walked in. He looked over at her, first from the rear as she closed the door and then as she approached, her face flushed, her dark hair flying back from her shoulders. Not bad looking. A bit on the heavy side but not a bad looker all the same. Yes, there'd been some good times. Especially in the sack.

Andrea removed her sunglasses as she walked over and he looked into the bright green of her eyes as she bent down and kissed him on the cheek. He felt the moisture on her face as her skin touched his.

She took off her sunshade and hung it on the back of the chair and sat down.

You'll never guess what happened, she said.

What?

I'm still so angry I can hardly speak. She pushed her hair away from her forehead as she dabbed at the sweat with a serviette.