The question hung in the air, as everyone sitting at the
table stopped breathing except for the poor fool who asked it and the woman who
was asked. The moment dragged, as an eruption of righteous anger and fury was
surely about to come out and hit the young man right in the face.
But it didn’t. Instead, she calmly picked up her water and
sipped it slowly, then placed the cup down with careful precision back on the napkin.
Then, and only then, she shifted in her seat slightly to face him.
I expected a slap. Not a kiss.
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