Here’s a little flash fiction…
The tutor looked familiar. It took her ten seconds to remember – the sofa in her flat, ten years previously.
Did he recognise her? Hopefully not. She made sure to look at him when he talked, the way someone who has no history with another person would.
Maybe she waved her left hand about a bit too, waggling the fourth be-ringed finger. His own left hand was bare.
Nonetheless, when he said ‘good’ in response to a point she made, she glowed. At the end, she thanked him – glad that his attention was taken up by others anxious to talk.