Kafziel’s eyes never left the door. Each time it opened, his heart jumped, a mixture of hope and fear hammering in his chest. The smell of freshly brewed coffee, sweet pastries, and faint vanilla from candles filled the air, but he barely noticed. His thoughts were consumed by one thing: Is she really coming?
Beside him, his brother shifted uneasily in his seat. “Any sign of her yet?” he asked quietly, his voice barely rising above the gentle murmur of the café.
“Nope,” Jules replied, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. His gaze was sharp, almost protective. “But she’s coming. Don’t worry, man. She won’t just… not show up.”
Kafziel nodded, though his stomach twisted into tight knots. What if she changed her mind? What if she doesn’t recognize me… or doesn’t want to see me at all? T
