And for the first time all afternoon, Adrian found himself without an immediate answer.
The question lingered between them long after Miranda finished speaking.
The café around them remained busy, yet strangely distant. Conversations rose and fell from nearby tables. A barista called out an order near the counter. The soft scent of coffee drifted through the air.
None of it seemed important.
Not compared to the woman sitting across from him.
Miranda didn't look away.
She wasn't demanding an answer.
She wasn't angry.
That somehow made everything more difficult.
Adrian lowered his gaze toward the cup in front of him. The coffee had already cooled. He couldn't remember the last time he had taken a sip.
For several moments, silence stretched between them.
Finally, he spoke.
"I don't know."
A faint smile appeared on Miranda's face.
It wasn't a happy smile.
More like the smile of someone who had spent weeks preparing herself for an answer she already knew.
