Thirty minutes is all it takes for Henry's patience to reach its limit.
He stands from the small corner table, shoulders set, ready to walk out.
He reaches for his jacket, prepared to leave, when suddenly Adam appears.
He steps into view with quiet precision, his eyes already locked on Henry. The timing feels deliberate, too exact to be coincidence, as though Adam has been watching from a distance, waiting for this exact moment to let Henry unravel.
Henry's first instinct is to keep walking. He takes a single step toward the exit, refusing to give Adam the satisfaction of a reaction. But Adam moves smoothly into his path, placing himself squarely in Henry's way.
"I'm late because I was booking a better place to talk freely," Adam says. His tone is low, steady.
Henry's eyes narrow slightly. "Why do we need another place to talk? It's fine here," he replies, voice even, unreadable.
