MEGAN

The morning sun was streaming through the hallway windows, highlighting the tiny scuffs on the floor and the nervous sweat cooling on my palms.

I stood in front of Apartment 4B, my hand hovering inches away from the dark wood of Singh’s door.

My mind was nothing but a chaotic mess of "what ifs."

What if I was crossing a line? What if I was being too clingy?

We had spent the previous night essentially fusing our souls together on a chair, but daylight has a funny way of making everything feel a lot more casual.

And again, WHAT IF it was just a one night thing?

Still, I...