Sara pushed open the door to the HoneyComb Café, immediately greeted by the rich scent of vanilla and fresh coffee. It was definitely a fancy spot—polished floors, soft jazz playing in the background, and the café's name elegantly etched in gold on the glass front. It screamed expensive.
"Glad I got a better job," she muttered to herself. "One coffee here and my old paycheck would've vanished."
The place wasn't too crowded. A few quiet patrons sat with their laptops or books, sipping drinks. Her eyes scanned the café, searching for him. She only vaguely remembered Elijah's face from that chaotic night, but somehow she knew she'd recognize him if she saw him.
And she did.
There he was, sitting alone at a center table, speaking into his phone, his face serious and focused. For a second, she hesitated. He looked deep in thought, and she wondered if it was bad timing. But she had no choice—so she walked up, placed a hand on the seat across from him, and asked softly, "Mr. Elijah?"
He looked up, his brows lifting. The moment their eyes met, his expression softened.
"Miss Parker?" he asked, standing up and putting his phone away.
"Yeah," she nodded, smiling. "Nice to finally meet you."
"The pleasure's mine. Should I call you Sara instead?" he asked, shaking her hand gently.
"Sure," she said.
He didn't look away for a moment, his gaze lingering on her like he was both intrigued and slightly enchanted.
"If you need to finish your call, go ahead," Sara offered, noticing his phone screen still lit with the active line. "I'll place an order in the meantime."
Elijah glanced down at the screen and casually locked it. "It's not important," he said, brushing it off and calling for a waiter.
"What would you like, Sara?" he asked, pulling the menu closer from the side of the table. As he lifted it, a business magazine slipped out from underneath—clearly left behind by someone before them. Both of them glanced at it at the same time.
On the glossy front cover was the bold headline: "Augustine Core – The King of Business." His face stared out confidently, perfectly dressed and composed, with that signature serious expression.
Sara's eyebrows immediately furrowed. Her jaw tightened.
Elijah noticed her change in expression and gave a small smile. "You don't like him?"
He slid the magazine closer and flipped it open, revealing even more professional shots of the man.
"Not a fan," she replied, forcing a stiff smile.
"Can I ask why?" he said, honestly curious. Most women he knew couldn't stop staring at Augustine, and here was someone who looked like she wanted to throw the magazine out the window.
Sara sucked in a breath and rolled her eyes. "Let's just say... I had a bad experience. And by bad, I mean really bad." She leaned back and crossed her arms. "I'm not even kidding—I feel like if I accidentally cross his path again, he might actually try to kill me."
Elijah snorted and then burst out laughing. "Seriously? What on earth did you do to get on his bad side? I mean, I know him—and even I've never managed that."
Sara's eyes widened. "You know him?"
Elijah gave a light nod. "Very well," he said. "And to be honest, I don't particularly like him either."
She blinked in surprise, then smirked. "Well, look at that. We already have one thing in common."
He chuckled and flipped the magazine over, hiding Augustine's face. "We sure do."
There was a brief pause, more comfortable than awkward.
"So," Elijah leaned in slightly, arms crossed. "Let's talk about you. Enough about Augustine. Tell me something real."
Sara mirrored his posture, leaning forward, hands folded on the table. "What do you want to know?"
"Well, the usual—what do you do... where you're from..." he paused, squinting a little, like trying to focus on a blurry memory. "And, sorry if this sounds cliché—but have we met before? You look... really familiar."
Sara tilted her head, lips curving into a faint pout. "I don't think so? Not that I remember, anyway."
"I don't know," he said, studying her face. "The second I saw you, it felt like I knew you from somewhere."
He leaned in closer, his arms resting on the table, eyes narrowed slightly as if trying to study her features more clearly—like he was searching for a name, a memory. Sara shifted in her seat, a little flustered by the intense gaze of a man so effortlessly handsome, watching her as if she were something to figure out.
She scratched the side of her neck and gave a nervous little laugh."I don't want to sound like I'm bragging or anything, but… I am kind of a little famous." She leaned back just slightly.
"Ahm?" he prompted, a brow raised with curiosity.
"Yeah…" She glanced down at her phone, tapping out a quick search before turning the screen toward him. "Here."
Elijah took the phone, and as he looked down, his eyebrows slowly rose. Recognition lit up his face like a switch had been flipped.
"Oh—you!" he exclaimed. "You're that girl who used to hang out with Sofia!"
His expression was bright, lit with the kind of excitement that comes from making a real-world connection. But across from him, Sara only stared back, her face completely blank.
"Who?"
"Sofia! Sofia Core—the silver medalist from the 20XX international tournament?" He looked at her expectantly, waiting for the light to click on in her eyes.
It didn't.
"I… I'm sorry," Sara said quietly. Her tone dipped, more guarded now. "I don't remember. I—" she paused, her voice tighter now, the words harder to say. For a moment it felt like her tongue had gotten heavier. "I was in an accident a few years ago. A bad one. I was in a coma for two years. Most of my memories from before… they're just gone so I--I don't remember people."
Her hands were locked tightly together beneath the table, fingers clenched.
It was the first time in years she had said it out loud to someone—and a complete stranger at that. But something about Elijah made it feel… oddly safe.
He blinked, his expression softening with real concern. The energy between them shifted immediately. Elijah's face darkened with guilt.
"I'm sorry," he said, voice lower now. "I didn't know. I wouldn't have brought it up if—" He stood up slightly and leaned forward, gently placing a hand on her shoulder in a way that wasn't intrusive, just… human.
"It's fine," she said, giving a small, reassuring smile. "I haven't really talked to anyone about it before, so it felt a little strange. But not in a bad way. Actually… I feel lighter now."
She looked up at him, her expression caught somewhere between surprise and relief.
"It's weird, isn't it?" she added. "How sometimes you can tell a stranger things you can't even say to the people closest to you?"