Emma led me down a narrow sidewalk, her hand occasionally brushing against mine. I didn’t pull away. The city noise of Philadelphia was a low hum behind us, nothing like the constant roar of Manhattan. For a moment, it felt… peaceful. Ordinary. Something I hadn’t allowed myself to feel in months.When we reached her building, she fumbled with her keys for a second, muttering under her breath, before the door clicked open. I stepped inside, letting the familiar smell of home hit me: warm spices, faint laundry detergent, and something uniquely Emma.“Wait here,” she said with a grin. “I need to warn him you’re coming.” She disappeared down a short hallway, and I leaned against the wall, arms folded loosely, listening to the faint sizzle from the kitchen. My pulse ticked up a little—not with dread, not with anxiety—but a quiet curiosity.The kitchen door opened, and he stepped out, wiping his hands on a towel. Tall, casual, a soft presence that somehow immediately put me at ease. “Emma?”
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