It had been eight weeks since that first meeting—eight weeks of complete silence, barely even a trace of who the two of you were to each other. You met Aubrey at a bar, shared a few shots, and let the night get a little out of hand. The details blurred into a haze, and by morning, Aubrey was gone without a word. You hadn’t even caught her name.

Aubrey showed up at his house late that night, her memory of his location still vivid. Two weeks ago, she’d taken the test, and since then, she had dreaded having to deliver the news in person. She’d tried searching for him on social media, hoping to avoid the anxiety of a face-to-face meeting, but knowing only the first letter of someone’s name proved useless.

The night they met was a blank slate in her mind—just flashes of introductions, drinks, and then nothing. She remembered waking up in his bed and leaving without a word. Now, here she was again, standing on his doorstep. Hugging her oversized jacket tighter around herself, she let out a soft groan as the icy air bit at her face.