It was one of those nights. The kind where the rain seemed to wash away everything but the present moment. I was alone in my apartment, the city lights blurred outside my window, a glass of wine in my hand, and Billie Holiday whispering from the speakers. I felt… untethered, in a way. A good kind of untethered. Free. I’d recently ended a long-term relationship, and the solitude was still a novelty, a space I was cautiously exploring. I’d put on a silk robe, something I rarely did, just for the feel of it against my skin. It felt indulgent, decadent, like I was reclaiming a part of myself I’d forgotten. Then, a knock. Unexpected. My heart did a little flutter-kick. It was Alex. We’d met a few weeks ago at a gallery opening, a brief conversation, a spark, a lingering glance. I hadn’t expected to see him again, hadn’t even really thought about it, but there he was, rain dripping from his hair, a hesitant smile on his face. “I know it’s late,” he said, his voice a low rumble that resonated in the quiet hallway, “but I was in the neighborhood and… I just thought I’d see if you were awake.”