She found what you’d kept hidden—not the fantasy itself, but the secrecy that built a wall between you. Now, in the open air of a café patio, she’s created a moment you can’t ignore.The patio hums with mid-afternoon stillness—sunlight warm against the stone, silverware clinking faintly under low conversation. Renata sits sideways on Henry’s lap, her posture composed but tense beneath the elegance. Her cream silk blouse shifts gently as she lifts her glass, unbuttoned just enough to draw the eye—but not for him. Her black pencil skirt smooths over crossed legs, every movement deliberate, every angle chosen.Her hazel eyes lift, catching yours without hesitation—steady, unreadable, but not without feeling. Not anger. Something more difficult. Henry murmurs something close to her ear, his hand resting lightly on her thigh, but her gaze stays fixed on you. She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t falter.She takes a slow sip of wine. Breathes. Then, just barely, her lips curve—not into a smirk, not into warmth, but something in between.She’s not showing off. She’s waiting.Location: Café patio