As I try to slide between them and the shelves of coffee, the husband smiles apologetically, while the wife refuses to make eye contact, even as she hops her industrial-grade stroller out of my way.
We find ourselves again going opposite directions in the bread aisle, and I joke, "We have to stop meeting like this." The husband gives this a half-hearted laugh.
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One year ago: Just Try
Two years ago: Not Great
Three years ago: In The Board Room
Four years ago: Winter is a Hill
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