A family of four was sitting next to her table during breakfast. The husband, with a dad bod, was loud. He had this funny but authoritative tone he seemingly tried to repress. He spoke all the nice words, but she could sense a bit of cruelty emanating from him.

The wife looked young and quiet. She only knew the wife was talking from her husband’s responses.

They had a baby and a toddler—four years of marriage, at the very least—but they looked like they barely knew each other. The husband, despite his over-the-top confidence, talked to his wife very carefully. Not out of fear or respect—it’s more like talking to someone you just met a few days ago. Do they only meet once in a while to make babies?

The husband left the table and returned a few minutes later to complain with an awkward, apologetic laugh. “The text says it’s coffee, but they only have hot water in it. We have to make the coffee ourselves.” The wife stood up, carrying her baby, and followed her husband to make him some coffee. They left their toddler. He tried to follow them and almost fell off his chair. She pulled him and quickly retreated, afraid to start an unwanted (at least from her side) conversation.

When they were back, the toddler was playing with a ginger cat. The husband took something off his plate. She thought he would feed the cat. But no, it was a fork. He hit the cat’s head with it, and the poor soul ran.

“Don’t,” he told his son kindly, “He might think you want to feed him.”

She could feel anger building up inside her, but — as usual — tried to subdue it. Instead, she daydreamed and made scenarios inside her head: Did the husband cheat and get caught, and this is their make-up trip? Or was it the wife who crossed him? Does the wife moan when they have sex? How does she sound? Will the husband leave early in the morning and come back only when they are ready to have another baby?

They left their table soon after. She did, too, and walked away in a different direction.