The phone screen lit up.  

A single word.  

> *Got it.*  

Evan’s stomach dropped.  

Was that it?  

But before disappointment could settle, another message appeared.  

> *Then come over.*  

> *Text me when you’re here. I’ll come down.*  

For a full second, he forgot how to breathe.  

Then his heart exploded into motion,  

his pulse racing so hard it blurred his thoughts.  

“This… this can’t be real.”  

He stared at the words again and again,  

as if they might vanish if he blinked too long.  

Then he shot up from his chair.  

The next few minutes were a mess of half-finished motions—  

shirt buttons fumbled, hair hastily smoothed in front of the mirror,  

socks mismatched.  

None of it mattered.  

He just needed to see her.  

Now.  

He typed a reply with trembling fingers:  

> *I’ll text you when I’m there.*  

The grin that spread across his face felt almost ridiculous,  

but he couldn’t stop it.  

He looked like a man who’d just won the lottery.  

Down the stairs, out the door,  

into his car—  

an old sedan that hadn’t been driven in weeks.  

It sputtered at first,  

shook a little as it started,  

but even the rough engine noise  

sounded like a heartbeat in sync with his own.  

He didn’t care about the rust,  

or the faded paint.  

It was enough that it could carry him to her.  

The city lights streaked past as he drove.  

He gripped the wheel so tightly  

his knuckles turned white.  

Her voice, her face, her faint smile—  

they filled his mind,  

looping over and over until he could barely focus on the road.  

Every red light felt like a punishment.  

“Come on… come on…”  

His heart roared louder than the car.  

Finally, her building came into view.  

He parked near the entrance,  

took a deep breath,  

and for a moment just sat there,  

feeling the tremor in his hands.  

Then he called.  

“Hey… I’m here.”  

His voice shook despite him trying to sound calm.  

Her reply came cool and steady.  

> “Okay.”  

> “I told the guard you’re coming. Just tell him you’re here for me.”  

> “He’ll unlock the elevator.”  

> “You remember which floor, right?”  

He froze for a moment,  

the weight of her words sinking in.  

There was no warmth in her tone,  

yet something in it—  

that quiet acceptance—  

made his pulse surge again.  

“I remember,” he said softly.  

His voice cracked,  

half excitement, half disbelief.  

The lights above the lobby doors cast long shadows.  

A breeze brushed past, cool and electric.  

Evan took one last breath,  

steadied himself,  

and started toward the entrance.  

Every step heavier than the last,  

filled with a mix of fear, hope,  

and something dangerously close to happiness.