The chocolate tart was everything Mila loved about dessert.
It was rich and so dark that it was almost bitter in its intensity. The ganache was thick enough to coat her tongue but smooth enough to melt the moment it touched the warmth of her mouth. Even the crust beneath it was buttery and delicate, flaking apart with the slightest pressure from her fork. Each piece dissolved into a whisper of salt and caramelized sugar that balanced perfectly against the deep cocoa.
She could taste the precision in it, the careful attention to detail that came from someone who understood that chocolate this dark needed something to soften its edges without dulling its bite.
And she knew that Markus picked it because it was her favorite. In fact, all the desserts were her favorites... and he didn't even know that she was showing up today.
