Travelers in anguish

A bit of Fiction in 58.

Airport Lounge
They sit at a back table, impossibly small and round so as the over-priced drinks clink. They’re slung on uncomfortable chairs and their body language speaks of torment. Her eyes are red from tears; he anxiously flips open his mobile.
The gold bands are shiny, new.
The bartender says a silent prayer. But he’s seen this before.