The cafe air, usually comforting, felt thin and brittle against Amelia's skin. She watched Leo across the small table, a knot tightening in her stomach. He was laughing, a genuine, easy sound, at something the woman beside him had said. Amelia had spent weeks planning this reunion, piecing together the courage to walk into his life again. He'd looked up, met her gaze, and… nothing. A polite smile, a question of, "Do I know you?" Her carefully rehearsed greeting died in her throat.
She pushed her untouched latte away, the ceramic cold beneath her fingers. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air, a stark contrast to the sudden chill that had settled in her chest. Leo was gesturing now, his hand casually brushing against the woman's. The familiar gesture, the way he crinkled his nose when he smiled—it was all so achingly familiar, and yet… he was a stranger.
"You look… familiar," Leo offered kindly. "But I have a terrible memory for faces." Amelia's cheeks felt hot.
Her fingers fidgeted with the napkin, twisting it into a tight, damp ball. This couldn’t be right. They'd built worlds together, whispered secrets under starry skies. How could all of that simply… vanish? The inside of her mouth felt dry.