The rooftop garden shimmered under the soft glow of string lights and scattered lanterns, casting golden halos across the velvet night. A warm breeze fluttered the linen drapes surrounding their private cabana, and the quiet hum of the city far below felt a world away. It was as if the universe had conspired to give them this one perfect evening.

Cynthia stepped out of the elevator, her emerald dress clinging to her like a second skin, and Mike couldn’t look away. His breath caught in his throat, stunned not just by her beauty, but by the ease with which she smiled at him—as though their messy past had slowly begun...