Lynn's POV

Michael was already there when I arrived.

He had a coffee in front of him — black, no sugar, same as always — and he was looking out the window at the street when I pushed open the door. He turned at the sound of the bell. Saw me. Smiled.

Not the careful, practiced kind of smile. A real one. Small, a little tired, but real.

Something in my chest unknotted.

I slid into the seat across from him. He didn't reach for my hand. Neither did I.

"You ...