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S and I have begun having breakfast before work from time to time. The young junior designer has found me to be her mentor of some sort and she had asked many questions about the design industry, the firms I used to work for, and what she should expect outside of her first professional job.

This time we met at Lulu's Creperie for our early morning rendezvous. She was telling me about her boyfriend of six years. After being away on business for three months, S's boyfriend was due to come back in a month. She confided in me some time ago that, instead of missing him, she felt relieved, liberated. Upon his return, she was expected to accept his proposal. Having the time to think about it, she said, made her even more unsure.
 
"Can I ask you a question? You don't have to answer if you don't want to," I said.

She looked back at me with curious and anticipating eyes.

"Do you have a crush on someone else?" I asked.

She lowered her eyes.

"How do you know?" she asked.

"He's married, isn't he?" I asked her back.

Her jaw dropped.

"Really, how did you find out? I never told anyone," she said, baffled.

This time I lowered my eyes and shrugged, taking a sip of now lukewarm coffee. Our beret-wearing server stopped by to clear the plates. Except for an old man sitting at a table next to us, apparently a regular, the restaurant was empty. The fog had lifted and the sun was shining through. In the warmth of the morning sun we sat, contemplating. For the life of her she would never figure out how I knew.