Elena’s POV
The coffee shop Isabella chose was small and tucked away in a quiet corner of the city. Not the kind of place influencers frequented, which I appreciated. No cameras. No fans. No interruptions.
I arrived ten minutes early, my stomach tight with nerves. I ordered a cappuccino I knew I wouldn’t drink and sat at a corner table, watching the door.
When Isabella walked in, I almost didn’t recognise her. She looked smaller somehow. Thinner. Her hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail, with no makeup except for a bit of mascara. She wore jeans and a plain sweater. The Isabella I remembered always dressed like she was ready for a photoshoot, even on casual days.
Our eyes met across the room. She froze for a second, then walked toward me slowly.
“Hi,” she said softly when she rea
