The man stared at the envelope in my hands.
I stared back.
Neither of us spoke for a moment.
The rain hammered against the café windows.
Finally, he walked toward me.
Slowly.
Carefully.
As if one wrong move would make the situation even more awkward.
"That's mine," he said.
I immediately stood up.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry."
His eyes dropped to the open letter.
Then back to me.
"You read it."
It wasn't a question.
I felt my cheeks burn.
"A little."
His eyebrow rose.
I sighed.
"Okay... all of it."
To my surprise, he laughed.
Not an angry laugh.
A nervous one.
The kind peop