NATALIE
What the hell am I doing here?
I stood in the middle of a quiet street in a town I couldn’t even pronounce, clutching a coffee that had gone cold at least thirty minutes ago.
My fingers were numb, but I hadn’t moved. Not even when the wind swept a few dry leaves across my shoes like a movie scene begging for symbolism.
I looked like a ghost. Hair tied up in a messy knot that used to be chic but now just screamed burnout. No makeup. Oversized hoodie that didn’t belong to me—I wasn’t sure whose it was anymore, but it still smelled like something familiar. Maybe me. Maybe him.
I stared at the window display in front of me—a boutique full of handmade candles and jars of honey wrapped in twine. Everything about it felt… calm. Gentle. Like the kind of life you settle into when you'
