For a moment, she just looked at him, not offended, not angry—just tired in a way that had nothing to do with age. She nodded slowly. “Of course,” she said. “I understand.”
She began gathering her things, moving carefully, as if rushing would somehow make the moment heavier. The manager hesitated, then glanced at the untouched place settings, the extra glasses, the empty chairs that told a story without words.
“Were you… expecting a large party?” he asked, though the answer was obvious.
“Yes,” she said simply. “Family.”
Something shifted in his expression. He looked around the restaurant, then back at her. “Would you mind… giving me just a moment?” he asked.
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