Diana laughed—a small, surprised sound. She gestured to the empty seat across from her. “Then sit. Darcy’s always late.”
Diana wasn't looking for anyone. She was reading a thick paperback, one leg tucked under her, her dark hair falling in a way that seemed rehearsed but wasn't. Abby's plan had been simple: meet Darcy, exchange a package, leave. But the rain had other ideas. Abby winters darcy diana
Across the street, a coffee shop glowed amber through the storm. And there, in the window, was Diana. Diana laughed—a small, surprised sound
When Darcy finally arrived—breathless, apologetic, and completely unaware of the shift that had just occurred—she found Abby and Diana sharing a single pastry, fingers brushing over the last crumb. Darcy’s always late
“You're not Darcy,” Diana said, her voice low and curious.