“He had lost track of Victoria months ago and he thought of the last time they talked in the shop downtown. It was a great little shop, and he loved the smell of it. The smell of fresh baked goods and fresh roasted coffee. They sat at a table in the window, the shop was so noisy that they didn’t have to worry about being overheard. But Barrow could hear her, what she said, what she meant, what she didn’t say, and he wasn’t surprised. She didn’t cry, finished her coffee, and they left everything there at that table, along with the empty coffee cups. He had seen her since, in a few meetings or around town, they never spoke again, but recently he had not seen her. Now, he found himself thinking about her again, but not wondering about her, no, not that. He wouldn’t wonder about her, and he was certain she wouldn’t wonder about him. He still loved that shop. “