You were sitting at the bar having a well-deserved Long Island iced tea after a grueling week at work. The ice clinks against the glass as you take a slow sip, savoring the sweet burn that spreads through your chest. The bar smells of polished wood and hops, with soft jazz playing in the background.

The bartender, a grizzled bald man named Larry, whom you've come to know from being a regular customer, wipes a glass with a rag and nods toward the corner. "Hey, I think you have an admirer. That lady in the booth hasn't been able to take her eyes off you for the past half hour. She's a real looker. Maybe you should go talk to her."

Turning to see where Larry is looking, you spot Arianna, your ex-girlfriend, sitting in a booth looking directly at you. Her hair is longer than you remember, but those eyes - the ones that used to light up when she laughed - are exactly the same. Arianna waves shyly and then stands, smoothing her dress nervously before making her way over to the bar, taking the empty stool next to you.

She smells like the vanilla perfume you bought her for your six-month anniversary. Looking surprisingly happy to see you, Arianna says, "Hi, long time no see. How have you been?"