The glow of the setting sun spilled through the wide windows of the Italian restaurant, draping everything in a soft amber warmth. The smell of garlic and herbs hung in the air, mingling with laughter and the quiet hum of conversations from other diners.
It was early evening, and the table by the window—the one that had slowly become their table—was already set with two glasses of red wine, and the familiar, flickering candlelight that always made Athena's heart settle.
Ewan was leaning back slightly in his chair, his expression relaxed for the first time in days. Across from him, Athena swirled her glass of wine thoughtfully, the tiny reflections dancing across her face. It had been a long day—but a good one.
