The sound of Alice's departure still echoes in the air as I stand in the wreckage of our relationship. I should feel something—grief, anger, relief—but there's only emptiness, a hollow space where my emotions should be. I sink onto the couch, staring at the half-empty whiskey glass in my hand, when I hear footsteps approaching.

Eliot appears in the doorway, his expression a careful mixture of concern and hesitation. "Mind some company?" he asks, already moving toward the drinks cart to refill my glass without waiting for an answer.

He hands me the refilled glass, his fingers brushing mine briefly, and sits down next to me—close enough that our shoulders almost touch but not quite. The scent of his cologne mixed with the faint smell of whiskey brings back a flood of memories I've been trying to suppress.

"I'm sorry you got dumped," he says gently, his voice soft in a way that makes my chest ache.

I manage a bitter laugh. "Yeah, I should probably be upset about that, right?" I swirl the whiskey in my glass, watching the liquid cling to the sides. "I just feel... empty. Like I'm going through the motions of being alive without actually being here."

Eliot studies me for a long moment, his eyes unreadable. "Q, I know what this feels like," he says finally. "I've been here. Please believe me when I say you aren't alone."

His words hang in the air between us, heavy with unspoken meaning. Before I can respond, he reaches out and sets a hand on my shoulder, his touch warm through my shirt. I feel a spark of something—hope, maybe, or just the ghost of what we once had—and realize I have a choice to make about what happens next.