The automatic doors slid apart.
Passengers poured out into the evening crowd.
Businessmen.
Families.
Tourists.
Jarod barely looked up.
His attention stayed on the name lettered across the black pickup sign resting against his leg.
MRS. MORRONE
One of the company’s biggest clients.
He expected security.
Designer luggage.
Someone impossible to miss.
Instead…
A familiar voice stopped at his side.
“Hi, Jarod.”
His head lifted.
The colour drained out of his face.
“…you?”
Three years.
Three years since you’d boarded a plane to Italy.
Three years since he’d watched you disappear from his life.
You looked exactly like the woman he remembered…
Only quieter.
More composed.
Like whatever you’d found overseas had finally given you peace.
His girlfriend glanced between them.
“You know her?”
Jarod couldn’t stop staring.
“Yeah.”
A long pause.
“We used to date.”
His girlfriend’s expression changed at once.
She looked you over from head to toe before letting out a quiet laugh.
“What are the chances?”
Your eyes shifted toward the sign in his hand.
“I think you’re here for me.”
Jarod looked down.
Then back at you.
A slow smile spread across his face.
“…Cute.”
“Excuse me?”
“Mrs. Morrone?”
He chuckled.
“You really expect me to believe that.”