“Victoria.” Daniel’s voice was low, almost coaxing as he leaned against the doorframe of her apartment. He looked different today—more disheveled, eyes filled with a certain intensity she hadn’t seen in him before.

She didn’t look up from where she was organizing her art supplies. “What do you want, Daniel?” she asked, her voice steady but tinged with annoyance.

He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us,” he began, walking slowly toward her. “About what we had… what we could have had. I know things got complicated, but it doesn’t have to stay that way.”

Victoria remained quiet, her hands still...