The café lights shimmered softly against the evening sky, reflecting off rain-slicked pavement and the wide glass windows that made the place feel warmer than it actually was. Adrian Shaw sat alone at a small table by the window, his posture composed but his mind restless, fingers loosely circling a glass of water he hadn’t touched. At thirty-four, he had grown accustomed to reading silences the way other people read headlines. He knew what it meant when a chair across from him stayed empty long enough for the candle between them to burn low. He checked his watch for the third time, then glanced at his phone, resisting the urge to send a polite message that would sound casual but betray disappointment.

This wasn’t his idea in the first place. His business partner, Mark, had insisted—almost pleaded—that Adrian needed more in his life than spreadsheets, boardrooms, and late-night emails answered from hotel rooms. “You’re successful, yes,” Mark had said, leaning against Adrian’s office doorway weeks earlier, “but you’re alone in a way that isn’t sustainable. She’s kind. She’ll remind you what matters.” Adrian had smiled politely then, agreeing to the blind date more out of exhaustion than hope.