Chapter 144

• The rain had stopped just before sunset, leaving the streets with that soft, reflective sheen that makes the city feel as though it has been polished. I could smell damp stone in the air as I made my way to the little French place Lena had chosen. She had sent me a short message earlier in the day, asking if I could meet her for dinner. There was no hint of urgency in her words, but something about the way she had phrased it—no extra sentences, no playful remarks—made me think it was more than just a casual meal.
• The restaurant was tucked into a narrow side street, its doorway framed by two tall planters filled with rosemary and lavender. The air around them smelled green and sharp. Inside, the light was low and warm, spilling from shaded lamps onto white tablecloths. The sound of cutlery and soft conversation seemed to settle over me the moment I stepped in. Lena was already there, seated at a small table near the back, her hair pulled into a loose twist and her phone turned face down beside her water glass.
• She stood when she saw me, smiling in a way that reached her eyes but carried something else behind it—maybe relief, maybe hesitation. We hugged briefly, and I noticed the faint scent of her perfume, the same one she had worn years ago when we first met.