And there he was. Mark, suited up, sitting across from a young woman at least eight years my junior. She gazed at him with adoration, her hand brushing his as they toasted. Their words of affection drifted over the partition.
I sat down smoothly, feigning ease. Daniel filled my glass, smiling politely:
“It’s been years since we shared a meal. You haven’t changed—you’re still strong, still radiant.”
At that moment, Mark finally looked up. His eyes froze, the glass shaking in his hand, lips parted but speechless. His face drained of color. The woman across from him, confused, followed his stare—and met my calm smile.
Daniel, still casual, twirled his wineglass and spoke:
“Good to see you again, Mark. Never thought it’d be in such… circumstances.”
The words cut sharper than any shout.
Mark stammered, “Daniel… you… what are you doing here?”
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