Countdown to My Divorce

Rachel answered honestly, “It’s good. I’ve been here before”

“Oh, that’s great. Don’t say I’m taking advantage of you. I’m actually being pretty fair,” Tyler replied before he closed the car door and walked up beside Rachel. He yawned as he did so.

Rachel felt like every time she saw Tyler, he always looked half–asleep, like he’d just rolled out of bed. But at the office, he was cold and unapproachable like a completely different person.

They picked a window seat and sat down. Rachel glanced at Tyler in his tailored suit which was clearly high–end and probably custom–made. Sitting in a place like this, filled with the smells and grease of street food, he really looked out of place.

Tyler scanned the place, and Rachel could tell he was unimpressed. A place like this was always full of smoke and oil. The tables were sticky with grease, and business was so good the owners clearly didn’t have time to keep things spotless.

She hesitated for a moment and said, “Why don’t we go somewhere else? Somewhere you usually eat?”

“No gas left in the car. We can’t go far. Let’s just stay here,” Tyler said as he grabbed a stack of napkins and started wiping down the table.

He wiped it down thoroughly, using all the napkins, and tossed everything in the trash. Even though the table was practically shining at that point, it still didn’t feel clean enough for him.

Rachel couldn’t help but ask, “Mr. Hunt, are you sure no one forced you to come here?”

as if just realizing how over–the–top he was being. Even the restaurant owner was eyeing him strangely. Finally, he stopped

gave the owner an awkward smile. “Sorry, my friend here has a bit of a

owner sighed, “Miss, we’re just running a small

“Don’t worry, we’ll pay for the

then did the

scoffed. “A stack of napkins? That guy needs

just trying to get by. Not everyone

raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me? Do I

to spell it out?

Tyler corrected

on her water and ended up spitting some

already reacted, grabbing a plate from

her chest and coughed a few times. “Sorry, that was a

normal person. Don’t start a rainstorm mid–meal,” Tyler said dryly as he set the plate down and dabbed at his clothes with a napkin. His movements were unhurried and refined. There wasn’t a