Adrian sat alone at the café, his fingers tapping restlessly against the porcelain cup in front of him. He hated waiting. More than that, he hated Dante and he didn’t even know when that hatred had grown this deep. Yet here he was, answering his call.
The door finally opened, and Dante walked in, unhurried, as if time had never mattered to him.
Adrian lifted his head, his eyes sharp with anger.
“Why did you call me here,” he snapped, “and then decide to show up late?”
Dante sighed and pulled out the chair across from him. “Look, man, I know I’m late ”
Adrian cut him off suddenly, his patience snapping. “Then say why you want me here.”
There was a brief silence. Dante leaned back, studying him before finally speaking.
“Okay… I know we’ve had our past differences,” he said, guilt flic
