🌧️ Chapter 3
The rain didn't stop the next day.
It just turned colder.
Seraphina wiped down the tables as the café emptied out during the late afternoon lull. Her fingers were sore. A blister peeked beneath a band-aid on her palm. She stared at it like it didn't belong to her — the girl who once had a driver just to hold her umbrella now bore scars from wiping cappuccino foam.
"Still standing," she muttered under her breath.
The bell above the door jingled again.
She didn't look up at first. "We're closing in thirty minutes."
"I'll make it quick," a smooth voice replied — familiar now.
Lucien.
Seraphina's spine stiffened, but she didn't show it. She turned, only to see he wasn't alone. A blonde woman in a blazer trailed behind him, lips curled in disapproval. She looked Seraphina up and down like a used shoe.
Lucien ignored her expression. "Another cup of your Special."
Seraphina turned her back without a word and began preparing it. The blonde woman stepped closer.
"Do you always make coffee for every man who asks nicely?" she sneered.
Seraphina didn't pause. "Only the ones who tip well."
Lucien chuckled under his breath.
"I'm Camille," the blonde added sharply, "Lucien's business partner. We're reviewing possible venues for a new product line."
"Is that what we're doing?" Lucien asked coolly.
Seraphina slid his cup forward. "That'll be 180."
He handed over cash without counting.
Camille leaned closer. "You look familiar. Weren't you someone before?"
Seraphina's lips twitched. "Still am. Just quieter now."
Before Camille could respond, a crash came from the back kitchen. One of the younger staff dropped a tray. Instinctively, Seraphina moved to help — kneeling, collecting shattered ceramic and burnt scones.
Lucien saw it then.
Not the fall — the weight. The invisible one.
A woman used to pearls and polite applause now knee-deep in flour, helping others without thinking twice.
Camille scoffed. "How poetic."
But Lucien didn't look at her. He looked at Seraphina like a puzzle he wasn't sure he deserved to solve.