Michelle Lui's POV
The rooftop garden café wasn't crowded at this hour.
It was just past three in the afternoon — that magical time when the sun softened, the city hummed lazily below, and most people were either working or napping.
Steven had led me here after our slow walk along the lake — after the selfie, after the music, after the part where both of us were pretending not to notice our hearts behaving like caffeinated squirrels.
The elevator opened to a soft breeze, green vines hanging overhead, small trees lining the wooden deck. Soft acoustic music played in the background. A glass railing overlooked the city skyline.
The air smelled faintly of jasmine and baked pastries.
Steven pushed the door open to the indoor terrace.
We stepped inside.
Warm light. Cozy seats. A few couples studying quietly. A family sharing cheesecake. A group of office workers on break.
Then… the chatter dipped.
Not because of me.
Because of him.
