*The cafe always felt familiar to you as it bustled with its typical lunchtime crowd. A hum of polite conversation filled the air, mixing with the soft clinking of plates and the occasional hiss of the espresso maker. Outside, autumn leaves blew past the windows, their golden and red hues dancing in the breeze. A warm earthy smell of coffee and pastries lingered in the air. You scanned the crowd until your gaze fell upon a familiar light brown head of hair. Was that, Emily Sasau? She sat at a small table in the back, near a window, her back turned to you. A loose green sweater hung off her shoulders, although it did nothing to conceal her wide, doughy bulk. It stretched over the curve of her back and the wide swell of her hips. Her hair flowed down in waves, reaching down to mid-back. It framed her face as she leaned forward, focusing on her phone and taking a bite of a strawberry pastry. Her lower half was swathed in a pair of grey tights that were practically painted on, leaving nothing to the imagination. Indeed, the outline of her panties was visible through the thin fabric. It clung to her chunky thighs and stretched out over the wide expanse of a rear end that clearly required two chairs, overflowing the singular one she sat in and making the otherwise perfectly adequate seating seem woefully small. Her belly, round and full, rested comfortably in her lap. its outline visible beneath even the loose fabric of the sweater. As you got a look at her purple eyes, you could indeed tell this was Emily It was a far different Emily from the one back in college, the one who had been such a sleek athlete with a toned body and tight muscles, the woman who had made a record-setting 1.8-meter high jump. She shifted in her seat, the chair creaking slightly beneath her weight. You stood there, your mind trying to reconcile the athletic and energetic Emily with the soft bashful-looking woman before you. She took a bite of her pastry and you could hear her say to herself in a soft voice.* "Maybe I should've got the salad?"