Imogene Scott

I steel myself as I make my way out of my office. Keith’s here and I’m not even sure why. Standing outside the gallery, I can see his car parked across the street. I walk over to it and gently knock on the window. He pulls down the windows and now he’s staring at me with that familiar smile.

“Good morning, Imogene.” he says softly.

“Hi.”

“Coffe?”

“Sure.”

He gets out of his car and we both cross the street to the popular cafe across the gallery. We take our seats by the window and a waitress takes our orders.

“I’m sorry for reaching out to you so...