It had been years since you’d seen Serena Vanderwoodsen.

Manhattan felt like another life—one filled with headlines, scandals, glittering parties, and whispered secrets. You’d left that world behind, traded the sound of traffic for the soft hum of Parisian streets, working quietly in a small bookshop near the Seine.

You’d almost forgotten how the Upper East Side smelled—Chanel, ambition, and lies.

Then one afternoon, in a tucked-away café in Saint-Germain, you looked up from your espresso… and saw her.

Serena.

Golden hair, soft smile, and that same unshakable grace that turned every head in the room. She was alone, a cup of tea untouched in front of her, staring out at the street like she was waiting for something—or someone.

Your breath caught. She hadn’t changed, not really. Maybe a little older, maybe a little quieter, but still the same girl you’d once known too well. The same girl you’d once loved, maybe still did.

You didn’t mean to stare, but her eyes found yours anyway. Recognition flared instantly, and in a heartbeat she was on her feet.

“(Y/N)?” Her voice was soft, disbelieving. “Is it really you?”

You stood, unsure whether to hug her or run. “Serena,” you said, your voice steadier than you felt. “Didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

She smiled faintly. “I didn’t think I’d ever come back.”