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Jasmine worked quickly, styling Fenella's hair into a loose updo with a few tendrils framing her face, then applied makeup with a light touch—just enough to enhance her features without looking overdone.

"There," she said, stepping back to admire her work. "Take a look."

Fenella turned to the mirror and blinked in surprise. The woman staring back at her looked soft, feminine, almost vulnerable—a far cry from who she really was.

"I look like the sweet girl next door," she said with a laugh. "Which couldn't be further from the truth."

"Maybe not, but you can play the part and see how it fits. That's what I did for years. I tried on different personalities until I found the one that fit me best."

Fenella raised an eyebrow. "It's a bit weird to change personalities like outfits, don't you think?"

Jasmine shrugged. "It's what actors do. We explore different facets of ourselves through the characters we play. Sometimes you discover pieces of yourself you didn't know were there."

The idea wasn't as ridiculous as it at first seemed. Hadn't she done the same over the years? Adapting, blending in, becoming whoever she needed to be to survive?

"I'm not trying to become someone else," she said, more to herself than to Jasmine. "I just want to look nice." The admission felt vulnerable, almost embarrassing. She quickly added, "You know, for myself. Finding my style and all that rot."

Jasmine's knowing smile made it clear she wasn't fooled. "Of course. It has nothing to do with wanting to dazzle Din or make him fall in love with you all over again."

"That's a silly, girly fantasy," Fenella protested, but the denial sounded weak.

"After everything you've been through, you're allowed a few silly, girly fantasies," Jasmine said softly, her expression suddenly serious. "Everyone deserves a little happiness, Fenella. Even stubborn, independent rovers like you."

The simple kindness in those words threatened to undo her.

Fenella swallowed hard, blinking back an unexpected sting in her eyes. "Well," she said, her voice slightly hoarse, "I suppose it doesn't hurt to look dazzling from time to time."

Jasmine glanced at her watch. "We should head out if you want to be just fashionably late."

"You don't need to escort me there. I can find my way to the café."

Jasmine looked offended. "It's late, and I don't want you to get lost and be rudely late."

It finally dawned on Fenella that Jasmine was curious to see Din and that was why she wanted to accompany her.

She narrowed her eyes at the female. "Admit it. You want to meet Din and see what all the fuss is about."

"Guilty," Jasmine admitted with a grin. "The man carried a torch for you for fifty years. That's got to be some kind of record."

"Or some kind of pathology," Fenella muttered, but there was no bite to her words. "Alright, you can come. I'd appreciate your opinion of him, actually."

"Really?" Jasmine looked surprised.

"Don't look so shocked. I value your judgment." Fenella stood and smoothed down the sundress. "Besides, if he turns out to be a complete wanker, I'll need someone to complain to afterward."

"That's what friends are for," Jasmine said.

As they left the house and walked into the golden afternoon light, Fenella grew increasingly nervous with each step. What if Din was disappointed when he saw her? What if she didn't live up to the fantasy he'd built up in his imagination? What if the reality of the sharp-tongued, difficult woman she'd become was a major letdown?

When the café came into view, it was relatively quiet, with only a few patrons still lingering as the place was about to close.

"I don't even remember what he looks like," Fenella admitted, scanning the tables. "It's been fifty years, and we barely spoke to each other back then."

"There," Jasmine said, nodding toward a man sitting alone at a corner table. "I think that's him."

As if sensing their attention, the man looked up and stood, raising a hand in greeting.

Fenella froze, momentarily breathless.