She was waiting a long time for him in the café. She'd sipped tea, ordered a cake, smushed the cake with a fork and then left it aside.
He didn't come.
Maybe he'd got the day wrong. He did that a lot. She eventually took herself home, cried, but vowed to try again.
And she did. Day after day after day.
Her appetite returned eventually. She ate sandwiches and chatted with the other regulars.
Eventually, she decided she'd waited long enough.
She went to find him. She stopped for flowers on the way.
She laid them carefully on his grave.