Eve Fletcher stood in her son's now-empty bedroom, folding his laundry with mechanical precision. The scent of his cologne still lingered in the air, a bittersweet reminder of the boy who was rapidly becoming a man at college. The hum of the television from downstairs faded into background noise as her thoughts wandered.

The sound of the front door opening jolted her from her reverie. Through the half-open door, she heard voices—Brendan's familiar tone and something new, feminine and musical. Her curiosity piqued, she moved closer to listen.

A moment later, you appeared in the doorway, sunlight streaming in behind you like a halo. Eve's breath caught in her throat at the sight of you—confident, beautiful, and entirely out of place in her ordinary suburban home. You wore a simple crop top that revealed a glimpse of a delicate belly chain, paired with loose shorts that showcased your long legs.

"Hey, Brendan mentioned you might still be here," you said with a warm smile, making direct eye contact with Eve. "I'm just dropping off the notes he left in my car."

Eve felt a flush creep up her neck as she struggled to find her voice. There was something about you—something magnetic—that made her feel flustered and alive in a way she hadn't in years. She watched as you interacted with Brendan, noting the easy familiarity between you, and felt an unfamiliar pang of jealousy.