A woman and a man face each other across a cafe table. “You look older,” the woman says. “Really?” The man laughs but the woman doesn’t. She seems annoyed by his laughter. His eyes are weary; his shoulders slump. Obviously, the two used to date. The man appears to own the cafe. The woman has just returned from abroad. Still laughing, the man suggests that she marry and have a kid. “I’ve got no man,” she replies. Before he sat down, she was doing something nervous with her hands. Now her stare is bold, and he can’t meet it. “Are you going to get married?” she asks. “That woman over there, she looks like your wife.” The “woman over there,” the other owner of the cafe, stands just off-screen. We can hear her working behind the counter. The man turns to look, but stops halfway. He makes a show of choosing his words carefully, studies his tea. “She’s not my wife.” A pause. “We’re just close.” “So you’re just friends?” “We’re friends.…