It registers that I'm openly staring at him. "I'll get you another menu," I say finally.

His gaze drops to my nametag. "Thanks … Claudia."

I hurry away. My heart is beating quickly, and it's not because I'm scared for once. Knock it off, Claudia. There's no way.

I'm struck by the power of my yearning for a chance to have a normal, boring life again. Gathering up another menu, silverware and water, I return to the table.

"Can I get you something to drink?" I ask the handsome stranger.

"Water's fine, thanks."

Before I wind up staring again, I walk away briskly and return to my safe spot behind the counter. Todd is in his usual booth in the corner with his iPad and notebook out.

Several minutes pass before a gorgeous brunette, dressed for a swanky club rather than a diner, steps in and heads towards the booth with the handsome stranger. My stomach sinks. She's definitely the kind of woman I'd place him with: sophisticated, attractive, and decked out in designer clothing.

I give her a moment then cross to them to take their orders.

"I'll have a house salad and bottled water," she says with a quick though tight smile.

"Cheeseburger, fries," the handsome man replies.

The woman raises an eyebrow at him. "I didn't think that was on your diet."

"Make that double fries." He winks at me.

I turn away before smiling. The air between them is charged, and not in the way of two people in love. If appearances are any indication, she's not pleased to be there and his calmness is hiding a great deal of emotion.

Placing their order, my eyes are drawn to them once more. I tell myself it has nothing to do with the handsome stranger, that I'm simply envious at witnessing a normal couple probably talking about normal things in a diner, but I'm fantasizing about what it'd be to sit with him. What do people even talk about anymore? It's been so long, I've forgotten.

Then again, judging by the body language of the two, I'd probably rather skip this conversation.

By the time their food is ready, the woman has left.

I feel kind of bad about it. Not sure what to do about her salad, I take it to the table.

"Um, will she be back?" I ask awkwardly.

"Nah. You can take the salad back," he replies. He smiles, though I see sadness in the depths of his warm eyes that surprises me.

It's not usual for me to connect with anyone, and certainly not a stranger, but I feel it with him. A kindred sense of shared sadness, disappointment and longing.




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