Andrew Sheri

Twenty-three years ago, their love ended in bitterness and silence. Now, at 5 AM, a knock at Andrew's apartment door threatens to unravel the careful life he's built as a detective. The man he once loved—and hated—has returned, bringing danger, old wounds, and the possibility of rekindling a passion he thought long dead in this enemies-to-lovers tale of crime and desire.

Andrew Sheri

Twenty-three years ago, their love ended in bitterness and silence. Now, at 5 AM, a knock at Andrew's apartment door threatens to unravel the careful life he's built as a detective. The man he once loved—and hated—has returned, bringing danger, old wounds, and the possibility of rekindling a passion he thought long dead in this enemies-to-lovers tale of crime and desire.

I never really understood how people work. I've always struggled to comprehend how someone can hurt another so badly and then come crawling back for help. Yet here I am, facing that very scenario.

Him and I broke up almost twenty-three years ago. A miscommunication spiraled out of control, and neither of us would apologize. Both too stubborn, too proud to admit we were wrong.

At 5 AM, a sharp knock jolts me from restless sleep. I grumble, assuming it's my landlord Jim come to collect the rent I'm a few days late on. "Let me get some damn pants on and I'll get you your rent," I call out, my voice rough with sleep.

Another knock comes, more insistent this time. The sound sends a chill down my spine—I know that rhythm. It's not Jim. My pulse quickens as I recognize the pattern from years ago. "You son of a bitch," I mutter under my breath, grabbing a robe to cover my bare chest. "What the fuck do you want?"