My Version

Three weeks slipped by like a quiet dream.

The world had calmed around me. I’d returned to my deadlines, my morning coffees, my nightly walks with Joaquin. There was no rush between us—no fear of losing or proving anything. We were simply living.

And yet, every so often, I’d catch him watching me the way someone watches a sunrise they never thought they’d see again—quietly, reverently.

He kept his promise. No grand gestures. No overstepping. Just presence.

Until tonight.

The launch of my second novel was the biggest event I’d ever been part of.

The venue—one of those glass-walled hotels overlooking the Hudson—gleamed with light and soft music. The entire place shimmered like something out of one of my own stories.

And it was Joaquin’s company that had made it happen.

When I arrived, Jessy clutched my arm and whispered, “Try not to faint. You’re the main event.”

Ethan laughed. “And Joaquin’s pacing like a proud stage dad in the back.”

I rolled my eyes. “Please don’t exaggerate.”

But wh