Cecilia looked down for a moment, her fingers gently brushing against the smooth tablecloth, and her smile started to fade, not from discomfort, but from memory. Sweetness and bitterness danced together in her heart like two guests at a party who couldn't stand each other but had no choice but to share the same space.
Because even as she laughed in her heart, a small part of her burned quietly. That same girl who ordered food for her family had once thought this man sitting next to her would protect her heart always. And somewhere along the way, she gave up.
She turned to Mark again and said softly, "Yeah… this place really, truly is something special." Her voice dropped a little as if the weight of her memories pulled it down. "And it seems that, yes… it still feels the same. The spirit of this place… it hasn't changed. It's like time passed, but the heart of it stayed still."
Her words lingered in the air like perfume, warm and bittersweet.
