Theodore's Pov
The coffee shop hums with soft chatter and the occasional clink of cups against saucers, but my focus is elsewhere. As I sit at the familiar table near the window, the nerves start to creep in. My leg bounces slightly under the table, a physical outlet for the restlessness I feel inside. Juniper said she was on her way back from a vineyard meeting with a client, and she should be here soon. Still, the anticipation makes every passing minute feel longer than it should.
To steady myself, I wave down the waiter and order a black coffee, no sugar. Something simple to occupy my hands and give me a moment to gather my thoughts. When the drink arrives, I take a slow sip, letting the warmth of the coffee ground me. I glance out the window, watching the street for any sign of her.
