Stephanie arrived at Michael Gardens at precisely 6 PM, her sharp heels clicking against the polished marble floor as she made her way toward the private section she had reserved.
The restaurant exuded an air of exclusivity, its dim lighting casting a soft glow over the elegant dining booths.
At their table, Gabriel was already seated, his silver-streaked hair neatly combed back and his suit crisp as ever. Despite their years apart, he still carried that composed, unreadable expression—the same one she used to despise.
He didn't bother to stand when she approached, but he gave a slow nod in acknowledgment. "It's good to see you after several weeks," he said, his gaze following her as she settled into her chair.
Stephanie, setting her Kelly designer bag aside, met his gaze coolly. "I can't say the same about you."