Tuesday arrived without ceremony.
No warning. No dramatic shift in the sky. Just another ordinary day that didn't feel ordinary at all.
Da Amar checked the time more than he cared to admit. His schedule had been cleared with an efficiency that surprised even him. Meetings moved. Calls postponed. Responsibilities rearranged.
Every Tuesday.
The café bell chimed as he stepped inside.
His eyes found her immediately.
Elowen sat in the same spot by the window, notebook open, fingers resting on the page like she had paused mid-thought. She wore a soft blue dress this time, simple and unassuming, yet it suited her in a way that made his chest tighten.
She looked up.
This time, she smiled.
"You came," she said, not surprised.
"I said I would," he replied, taking the seat across from her.
"No," Elowen corrected gently. "You didn't. I just hoped."
Something about that stayed with him.
They ordered in comfortable silence. When their drinks arrived, she pushed his cup toward him without looking.
"You take sugar," she said.
He stared at her. "How did you"
"You hesitate before drinking bitter things," she replied. "People who like bitterness don't hesitate."
He laughed quietly. "You're observant."
She shrugged. "Writers notice patterns. It's how we survive."
"So you're a writer," he said.
"Trying to be."
"Why 'trying'?"
Elowen closed her notebook. "Because the world doesn't reward softness."
Da Amar leaned back, studying her. "It should."
She met his gaze then, something unguarded flickering in her eyes. "You sound like someone who learned that too late."
"Maybe," he admitted. "Or maybe I'm still learning."
They talked about nothing important and everything that mattered. About favorite places they'd never visited. About silence and why some people feared it. About how loneliness could exist even in crowded rooms.
Time slipped past them unnoticed.
When Elowen finally stood to leave, she hesitated. "Same time next Tuesday?"
He didn't pretend to think about it. "I'll be here."
As she walked away, Dan Amar realized something terrifying and beautiful.
He wasn't waiting for Tuesday anymore.
He was looking forward to it.
And for a man who had built his life around control, that was the first crack in the walls.