Olivia slowly set the tray down on a nearby counter, her movements hesitant, almost unsteady. Then she took a small step forward.
“I…” her voice barely rose above a whisper. “I didn’t expect to see you here…”
Michael stared at her, his jaw tightening.
The rain outside grew heavier, streaking faster down the windows, as if mirroring the tension building inside the room.
For a long moment, no one spoke.
The café continued around them—quiet conversations, the hum of machines—but their small corner of the world felt suspended in time.
Finally, Michael broke the silence.
“Why did you leave?” he asked, his voice low but steady. “Where have you been all these years?”
Olivia’s eyes filled instantly with tears.
She looked down for a moment, as if gathering the courage she had lost long ago, then slowly lifted her gaze again.
“I… I can explain,” she said, her voice trembling. “If you’ll let me.”
Emma slid closer to her father, sensing something serious but not fully understanding. She reached for his hand, her small fingers wrapping around his.
Michael felt her warmth, grounding him.