Julian's POV
She was late.
I checked the time again.
Twelve forty-three.
I'd told her noon. Lunch. Just us.
Safe. Private.
But the food was already cold. The candles I'd lit—more hopeful than romantic—were burning low.
Still no Elena.
I picked up my phone and called her.
No answer.
I tried again.
Voicemail.
I waited another ten minutes, pacing near the window, glancing out every few seconds like she might magically appear.
Then I texted her:
"Hey. Everything okay?"
No reply.
Something tightened in my chest. A strange pull I'd learned not to ignore.
I called Anna next.
"Have you seen Elena?"
She sounded confused. "No. She just left. She said she had somewhere important to be."
"She was supposed to be here. She didn't show up."
A pause. "Maybe she changed her mind?"
"No." My voice came out sharper than I meant. "She would've said something."
I hung up and called Callum.
"Hey, sorry to bother you. Elena—have you seen her today?"
