Petty had arrived at The White Group that morning in the news van, so she hadn’t brought her own car. After she walked out of the lobby, she pulled out her phone and ordered a ride.
It was rush hour. The app showed a long wait, so she wandered over to the curb, scrolling through the news as she waited for her car to show up. A black sedan cruised past her. She didn’t notice the man inside watching her, his dark eyes never leaving her for a second.
Twenty minutes later, Petty finally reached the restaurant. She spotted Harris by the window, already there. She waved, and he stood up with a smile.
“Sorry I’m late, Harris. Traffic was a nightmare.”
She’d promised to treat Harris to a meal after taking her grandmother for a check-up. Since neither of them had plans that afternoon, dinner was the perfect excuse to catch up.
Harris pulled out her chair, his voice gentle. “Don’t worry about it. I just got here, too.”
Once they sat down, the waiter began setting dishes on the table. Petty glanced over the spread, then paused. Every dish was one of her favorites. Even the dessert was something she loved.
As Harris poured her some soup, he said, “I wasn’t sure if you still liked the same things after all these years.”
Petty was surprised by how well Harris remembered. But she’d never been one to change her habits easily. The food she ate, the body wash she used—she’d stuck with them for years.
That went for the person she’d liked for a long, long time, too. But this time, she was really letting that go.
She hadn’t forced herself to change her routines. Harris was always thoughtful. It made sense that he’d pick up on her preferences after so long.
“I heard you’re planning to divorce Franco?”
The question caught her off guard. Her hand froze, chopsticks hovering over the plate. She looked up at Harris, his expression gentle but serious. “Are you here to talk me out of it?” she asked.

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