Wanted Again
She thought her marriage was safe—until one late-night conversation with the wrong man made her remember what it felt like to be truly seen.
The rain had started sometime after midnight, soft at first, then steady enough to turn the city outside AJ’s apartment into a watercolor of amber streetlights and blurred reflections. She stood barefoot in the kitchen wearing an old university sweatshirt, sleeves pushed to her elbows, a glass of wine warming slowly in her hand. The dishwasher hummed. The clock above the stove glowed 1:17 a.m. And still she couldn’t sleep...