We started to push the cart forward, but a cart unexpectedly bumped into ours from the other direction.

"I'm so sorry about- Oh. It's you."

I couldn't stop the shock seeping into my words as I stared at the man in front of me. Mr. Matthews returned the greeting with a judgmental gaze. In his cart were many ready-made meals and a box of pop. It seemed like he still didn't want to acknowledge Kyle's existence as he refused to look in his direction.

"You should really look out where you're going." The hoarseness of his voice indicated to me that he either hadn't woken up too long ago or he needed something to drink.

I looked over his arm. His arm was tucked underneath his jacket in a sling. I could see the white and blue cast peeking out of the fabric while he attempted to hide it more by shrugging his shoulder.

"What happened?"

"Nothing." The harshness of his tone told me he didn't want to talk about it.

"Do you need help? You got quite a lot." I glanced at the large box.

"I can manage on my own," he snapped at me.

He struggled to redirect his cart in the other direction but managed. He started wheeling his cart away and we followed his direction. I wondered if he was heading towards the check-out lanes as well.

"Why the hell are you following me?" He looked back at me and gave me an intense glare.

"I'm going to check out my groceries," I said slowly. I stared at him in confusion and he broke my gaze.

"Oh." His voice slightly softened, seeming to realize his mistake. "So am I."

When we arrived at the check-out lanes, there was only one cashier available. It seemed more awkwardness had to be endured today. The line was going relatively fast as the cashier did her best to tend to all the purchases as efficiently as possible.

Mr. Matthews was next in line. His arm reached into his pocket to pull out a wallet. He fumbled with it, trying to pull out a credit card from the slot.

"Do you need help, sir?" The cashier asked. Her smile was tight. Most likely rehearsed after being in customer service for a long time.

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You really seem to be having difficulties." The cashier seemed hesitant after the response he had given her, but he shook his head.

"I'm a man. I'm not a baby." He slapped the card down onto the surface, as if proving his masculinity. "A little old arthritis isn't going to kill me."

The cashier proceeded to check him out and he left the store in a huff. My eyebrows were knit together in concern, but I put the items onto the conveyor belt and proceeded to check out.

"He looked sad," Kyle said.

"Who looked sad?" I glanced at him and he tilted his head.

"That old man." He said it like it was a matter of fact.

"Ah, he did?"

"Yeah."

Maybe Kyle was right, but I wasn't sure if I would want to have an encounter like that ever again.