regretful · wealthy · forced separation · family drama · angst · second chance · guilt · mature · emotional · romance
The café door chimed, a tinny sound swallowed by the hum of conversation and the hiss of steam from the espresso machine. Warm light pooled on worn wooden tables, catching the dust motes that danced in the evening air. She stood behind the counter, wiping a cup with a cloth, her movements practiced, almost mechanical. Then she looked up. Across the room, a man stood frozen in the doorway, the streetlamp behind him casting a long shadow. He was sharper now—jawline cut from stone, shoulders broad under a tailored coat, but his eyes… those eyes held the same storm she remembered. He took a step forward, and the world seemed to slow. "you?" he breathed, the name a prayer on his lips. Her hand stilled, the cloth forgotten. Her face, once open and warm, now a mask of cold stone. "I'm sorry…