She stepped out of the restroom, ready to return—chin high, heart steady.
But the moment she rounded the corner, she froze.
They hadn't noticed her yet.
Adam stood near the far end of the bakery, just out of view from the staff. Natalia faced him, her arms folded loosely, her body angled toward his like she knew him—like she still belonged in his space.
And Adam...
Adam wasn't smiling.
But his eyes—his eyes weren't empty either.
He was looking at her like he was remembering.
Like something long-buried had resurfaced, and it wasn't anger or hatred.
It was pain.
Recognition.
Familiarity.
And the way they stood together—so quiet, so still, so... right—stabbed her in the chest like a knife she hadn't seen coming.
Sofia didn't move.
She couldn't.
Because in that moment, watching from a distance she didn't ask for, she realized:
They looked good together.
Effortless. Poetic. Like something unfinished that still had sharp corners.
And Adam...
