The café was quaint, tucked under the shade of blooming bougainvillea vines. Warm light spilled in through tall windows, casting golden halos on white tablecloths. It was peaceful, finally, and for a moment, I let myself breathe.
Noémie chose the table near the window, of course. She liked the view. I liked the distance, from him.
Marquis ordered for us like the gentleman he pretended not to be, and I just sat there, stirring my tea absentmindedly.
“You okay?” Noémie asked as soon as the server left.
I gave her a tight smile. "Define okay."
She leaned in, eyes twinkling. "Define 'not your type'."
"Excuse me?" Napatawa ako kahit gusto kong sampalin siya.
"Girl, the way Mr. Tall, Dark, and Scary looks at you, there’s definitely a type happening."
"His type, not mine," I muttered.
Ma
