I arrived early. Ten minutes. Just enough to watch the room settle before she entered.

The table was in the back—quiet, tucked into clean corners. White tablecloth, symmetrical place settings. Nothing chaotic. Nothing unplanned.

She walked in.

Tall. Taller than expected. Easily 5’10". And upright—like she wasn’t trying to shrink herself.

No photo had prepared me. I didn’t ask for one. Didn't want one.

She was…normal. No forced confidence, no dramatic entrance. Just someone walking toward a man she didn’t know yet.

Her eyes found mine quickly. She smiled. Small. Polite. A little unsure. I didn’t smile back.

She approached, close enough now for the details to land. Hair pulled into a messy bun—curly strands loose around her face, refusing to be tamed. No effort to smooth them. No apology for it either.

Light makeup. Simple dress. Everything else neat, except the hair—soft, a little wild, real. Her expression flickered—uncertain, but not nervous enough to turn away.

I stood. She tilted her chin slightly up to meet my height. Most didn’t bother.

That pause—half a second—before she stepped closer. Like she wasn’t sure what came next.

I pulled out the chair. She looked down, then back up. That soft smile again. Not forced. Not confident. Just…offered.

She sat.

And I returned to my place across from her.