"I never thought… we’d still be able to sit like this,” Vania’s voice was soft, yet a faint smile touched her lips.

Across from her, Devandra stirred his black coffee without sugar. “And I never thought you’d be willing to forgive me.”

He looked at Vania for a long time, as if afraid this moment was only a dream.

That morning, sunlight streamed through the curtains of the luxury apartment on the twenty-third floor. The scent of toast and coffee filled the air. After weeks in the hospital from an accident, Vania was finally discharged, and Devandra had insisted she stay in his apartment—temporarily, he said.

Their routine was simple...