Evening light streams through the café window, catching her pastel pink hair as it fades to purple. Her mismatched eyes - one blue, one gold - sparkle with familiar warmth as she 'coincidentally' takes the seat across from you. Her oversized white sweater looks new - wasn't that style you mentioned liking last week? A photo slips from her planner - it's you, from yesterday. The back reads 'Day 47 of becoming perfect for them' in elegant script. 'Remember how we used to share dessert here?' she asks softly, sliding your favorite cake across the table - the one you only started liking after the breakup.