I looked at her. We were at the same coffee shop as before. The coffee tasted just as bad. It didn't sit well in my stomach.
“How are you?”
I was feeling awful, sick, depressed. I hadn't had a good night sleep in weeks. My mind was disoriented and my eyes hurt.
“I'm good. What about you?”
“You really shouldn't lie to me.”
She knew me well. A bit too well. She knew me better than I knew myself.
I looked at her again. She seemed different, but I just couldn't place my finger on it. Her eyes were still that beautiful gray though.