Last Thursday, I told my husband I was hitting the gym, but honestly, I just needed some space to clear my head. Instead, I found myself at this dive bar across town, kind of my secret spot where no one knows me. I was sitting there, nursing a drink, when this guy slid into the seat next to me. Younger than me, maybe by ten years, but with this confidence that totally caught my attention.

We got to talking, easy chatter about bad TV shows and our worst dates. It was the kind of talk that had me giggling like I hadn’t in years. He had this way of looking at me like I was the only person in the room, and, well, one drink led to another. Before I knew it, we were leaning into each other, the buzz of the alcohol and the chemistry between us building up something fierce.