She had already decided to leave when he asked what she meant by freedom.
“Being able to go,” she said, lifting her jacket from the back of the chair.
He pulled in his feet to let her pass.
“Yes. But where do you want to go?”
She looked towards the door. Outside, someone held an umbrella with both hands. The wind twisted it sideways.
“That is a larger question.”
“We can leave it.”
She remained standing with the jacket over her arm. Earlier that evening, he had spoken about something he knew well. She remembered almost none of it. Now he had stopped explaining.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I’ve been occupied with being able to leave.”
He nodded but did not fill the silence. It irritated her slightly. She wanted to hear an answer she could disagree with.
“You could have said that it was a beginning.”
“Would you have believed me?”
She laughed and put the jacket down.
“Probably not.”
They continued talking about places they had travelled to for the wrong reason. She told him about a flat she had never properly unpacked in. He told her about staying in a city because he had bought an annual gym membership.
“A powerful philosophical foundation,” she said.
“I was trying to get my money’s worth.”
When she leaned forward, he did the same. She noticed his hands around the cup. They had been there all along.
“I have to leave in ten minutes,” she said.
“Do you want to spend them here?”
“Yes.”
She moved her chair a little closer to the table.