"How do I know that you aren't influencing me right now," she said, not looking directly at him.
"You don't, I suppose," he replied softly. "Does it matter?"
She looked at him for a moment then looked away again. "I..." she sighed. "No, probably not." She started to say something else, then stopped herself with a small shake of her head. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear without thinking about it. He reached out and took her hand in his and squeezed it slightly.
"Will I ever be free of you?" she whispered.
"What would you do if you were?" he asked her gently.
She looked down for a moment, studying the table as she thought. Looking back up at him she sighed again and said "I don't know".
"Don't know or don't want to know?" he asked. The edge of a smile played on his lips. Her head down again, she didn't respond.
They sat in in silence for a moment. She sipped at her drink. The air had condensed on the side of her glass and slowly was dripping onto the table. She played her fingers through the water on the table, avoiding his gaze.
"Do you love me?" He asked, surprising her.
She looked up at him, finally looking directly into his dark eyes. "What does it matter? I how would I know if I do or not?" She said remorsefully. "If you want me to love you, wouldn't you just make me feel that that way?"
He looked at her. She was so delicate. "I can't make you love me. Even I can't make you feel something like that." It was his turn to look down at the table and pulled his hand away from hers.
A tear streamed down her cheek. It was all the answer either of them needed. Reaching out, he took her hand again and kissed it gently. "Do you want to be free of me?"
She wiped the tear away with the back of her other hand and shook her head. For the first time since they sat down at the table she smiled at him as she pulled her hand away. Then she stood up and walked away. She didn't look back once.
Eventually he stood up and paid the bill. She was waiting for him. He didn't have to will her to do it, she wanted to be with him. He could feel it. He walked to the door, smiling wistfully.