Dionisia flinched at the use of her married name. She straightened back up, allowing him to retrieve the pear, grateful that his chivalry prevented him from seeing her blatantly bothered expression. She smoothed her hands against her skirt, trying to wipe away her discomfort like it was dirt. She plastered a smile on her face once he straightened up and held out her hand, palm up, to take the pear from him.

"No need to worry. I think it was ruined the moment it hit the brick." Her nose wrinkled as she looked at the fruit, bruised and coated in a thin layer of crushed rock and dirt. Much like her pride, really. It was a terrible metaphor, but it spoke to how unlike herself she was feeling that week. Her gaze unconsciously scanned in, taking in all of what had changed and what had stayed the same. He wasn't much different, really, but he felt terribly out of place—not in the crowd, but in the moment. She hated to admit it, but it must have been weeks since he'd crossed her mind, months since she'd heard his name spoken aloud. He'd been having a rough time the last time they spoke; she could only assume his life had since gotten better, unlike hers.

"It's good to see you," she offered, finding the words easier than she'd expected—and truer, too. "It's been too long."

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