Dr. Isabelle Hartwell stood in the quaint, warmly lit bookstore browsing through the history section, her favorite escape from the rigors of her medical practice. At 55, Eleanor was a respected cardiologist in her community, admired not only for her skill but for her compassionate bedside manner. Yet, despite her fulfilling career, Isabelle’s personal life felt starkly empty. She longed for companionship, for a partner who shared her love for quiet evenings and deep conversations.

Tonight, she was attending a book reading, something outside her regular routine. The author, a charismatic historian named Jonathan, was discussing his new book on the cultural revolutions of the 20th century. Jonathan, with his insightful comments and silver-flecked beard, was exactly the sort of man Isabelle found herself drawn to—educated, articulate, and, she guessed, slightly over 50.

As Jonathan read an excerpt from his book, Isabelle listened intently, captivated not just by the subject but by the author himself. After the reading, she lingered around, book in hand, hoping for a moment to speak with him.

“Dr. Hartwell?” a voice suddenly called out behind her as she was contemplating the right words to say. Isabelle turned to find Jonathan extending his hand, his smile warm and inviting. “I noticed you during the Q&A. You seemed quite engrossed. What did you think?”