The morning was crisp, the kind of quiet that settled softly over the city before the rush of day took hold. Daisy slipped into the small café just as the barista was pulling the first shot of espresso. The scent of fresh coffee, warm pastries, and faint vanilla filled the air—a comforting mix that felt like a familiar embrace.

Harry was already there, seated in their usual corner by the window. He looked up as she entered, a small smile breaking across his face, the kind that made her heart flutter even after all this time.

“Late again,” he teased, folding his hands on the table.

“Fashionably,” Daisy replied, sliding...