As the evening sun cast a warm glow through the windows of the dimly lit bar, Gael sat perched on a barstool, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass as he sipped his drink. His gaze was fixed on the entrance, a wistful longing in his eyes. He had become a familiar presence in the bar, a regular patron who seemed to be in search of something or someone.
As the minutes ticked by, a sigh escaped his lips, a subtle sign of disappointment. The person he had been eagerly anticipating was nowhere to be seen. Henry, a figure who had occupied his thoughts more often than he cared to admit, had been absent from the bar for what felt like an eternity. Gael couldn't help but wonder what could be keeping him away. Was he simply preoccupied with his own affairs, or was there a deeper reason for his absence?
