His pace slowed. The sidewalk beneath him blurred, but the realization hit like a lightning bolt. That restaurant—Sara and Claire’s favorite. The one he booked months ago for the company’s private dinner.
What were the odds?
That his firm hired her catering company. That she just happened to be here, in this city, tonight. That she mentioned that restaurant—on that night.
Coincidence?
Maybe.
But maybe not.
Because some things aren’t random.
Some things feel like they’re meant. Like the universe took its sweet time pulling strings—testing, burning, breaking, rebuilding—just to bring them back to the same place.
Different people.
Same crossroads.
And suddenly, tomorrow night didn’t feel like a company dinner anymore.
It felt like fate.
52
Until Next Time
Theskylineglowedbehindhim as Jaxon stepped through the polished glass doors of Lotus Prime Steakhouse. A place that whispered luxury in the details—the marble floors, the glimmering chandeliers, the low hum of string instruments drifting through the air. He straightened the collar of his shirt and followed the hostess up the grand double staircase to the private second-floor dining area, where the partners were already beginning to gather around a long mahogany table overlooking the rest of the restaurant.
Everything about the space was meant to impress—from the white linen tablecloths to the view of the city through the massive windows behind them. But none of that compared to what this night meant. This was his moment. His hard-earned redemption. From the ruins of heartbreak and self-destruction to being named partner at one of the most respected financial firms in the Southeast.
And he felt it. All of it. The pride. The weight. The gratitude. It sat in his chest like a quiet storm.
As dinner went on, conversations flowed around him—market trends, portfolio performance, jokes only men in ties would find funny—but Jaxon found himself quiet. Reflective. Every few minutes, he glanced down at the main dining room below, eyes subtly scanning for a familiar face he wasn’t even sure he wanted to see.
Forty-five minutes. No sign of her.
He wasn’t sure what he’d do if he saw Sara. Or Claire. Or both. He just knew he had to look.
Two hours into dinner, the table was winding down—dessert plates cleared, laughter mellowing. Jaxon took one last sip of his bourbon, glanced down at the restaurant floor one more time…
And there she was.
Sara. Sitting at a four-top in the middle of the dining room, her hair pinned up in that effortlessly elegant way she always wore it. She smiled up at him—warm, proud, knowing. Next to her sat an older gentleman. An empty seat. And across from them, a woman with silver hair who carried the same sharp beauty he remembered from old photos.
His heart skipped.
He signaled the waiter, subtle and calm, pointing to Sara’s table.
“Don’t disturb them,” he said quietly. “Just… make sure they’re taken care of.”
The waiter nodded, understanding more than the words alone. Then he walked off.
Jaxon stood with the rest of the group, shaking hands, exchanging thanks, stepping back into the night air as if it were just another Friday. But when he reached the foot of the stairs, he turned back for one last glance.
And saw her.
Claire.
