“So, what is this place we’re going to?” he asked. His words carried a tinge of anxiety. These sight-seeing trips she took him on sometimes ended in trespassing charges. That, and he was in the passenger’s seat and not the driver’s.
“It’s just a coffee house,” she replied. Her smile had a devious tinge.
They came to the Old City and passed old buildings that were being restored. He knew the coffee house well. This was the place his ex-wife had stepped into his life. He was apprehensive just setting foot in this part of Knoxville.
“Mark, you are going to have to let this go. You have to face facts,” she stated as a matter-of-fact. Mark looked at Penance. He pierced her eyes with an uncertain glare.
“Don’t worry. I’m here,” she hushed his gaze.
They entered Java Old City. Like so many days in the past, she was there – a barista as always. Her eyes met his with a tinge of surprise. She couldn’t have conveyed in words what he saw in her eyes. Unsure, he stepped to the counter.
“Hi there,” Margaret said. Mark drank in the sight of her. He was gluttonous. Guzzled, not sipped. He guzzled, until he glanced at her hand and saw the ring.