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"You know," Julian said softly, his shoulder brushing hers, "Mark always said he was the lucky one. I never really understood the extent of it until tonight."

As the hours ticked by, the awkwardness of being alone with a "stranger" began to melt away. They talked about Mark, of course, but the conversation soon shifted to their own lives—their shared love for old jazz, the frustrations of their respective careers, and the quiet dreams they rarely spoke of. Julian was an easy listener, leaning in when she spoke, his eyes reflecting a genuine interest that Elena hadn't realized she’d been missing. "You know," Julian said softly, his shoulder brushing

The rain drummed a steady, rhythmic beat against the kitchen window as Elena finished the last of the dinner dishes. Her husband, Mark, was still stuck at the office—a casualty of the end-of-the-month rush. He had called an hour earlier, his voice weary, asking if she’d mind keeping his best friend, Julian, company. Julian had arrived in town for a surprise visit, only to find Mark tied to his desk. Julian was an easy listener, leaning in when