Nora stared at the happy couple with as much disdain one can possess without it becoming a legal liability.
If she could actually froth at the mouth like a rabid dog, she would be doing so.
For three years she put up with that lazy, inconsiderate, negative lump of video-game addicted lard and now she was sitting at a table on a restaurant patio not more than thirty feet from him as he was eating breakfast with some bitchy looking overdressed fat girl (in clothes two years out of date) wearing the ugliest hat she had ever seen - probably to hide a terrible haircut.
What could he possibly see in her? And what could she possibly see in him? Her mind raced as she tried to figure out how that bitch got his lazy ass out of bed this early, much less dressed and out for breakfast at a restaurant.
He had shaved that god-awful beard, finally, and looked like he'd lost some weight and bought some decent clothes. Why the hell hadn't he done any of that when they were still together?
Nora fumed.
Her morning had been going just fine without having to see him with some fat girl as she was trying to order breakfast.
What the hell.
Why do these things always happen to her? She had made great strides since she finally shoved him out the door. It had taken more effort than she thought possible but she had trimmed down, found a new job that paid well and didn't require her to grind out 10 to 12 hour days, and most importantly had been able to finally buy some decent clothes instead of those old rags she had to wear when the struggle was real.
My god, he was even using a napkin to wipe the corners of his mouth. When the hell did he learn proper manners?
She stared with tractor beam intensity for a few more long seconds before she was tapped gently on her right hand.
"Hey, Nora, that waitress is going to be coming around again in a few more seconds, have you decided what you're going to eat?"
For a few seconds anger flashed in her eyes when she looked up at Luis. His near perfect teeth and light brown eyes almost seeming to dare her not to focus on him.
"What?, oh, sorry, got lost in thought about a situation at work. Hold on a moment...the coated cinnamon French toast looks good, I'll have that, and let's get a pitcher of mimosa's."
Luis nodded in agreement and caught the eye of the waitress who proceeded to walk back toward their table.
Nora again looked over at the table thirty feet away and momentarily hoped the waiter who was refilling their glasses would pour the entire pitcher on their table. It would serve them right.
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