The sun is warm, but the breeze is just enough to keep things comfortable as I stand on the dock, waiting for the boat. The others are already chatting, already at ease.

I know them all. I’ve shared boardrooms, dinners, flights, and endless political events with these people, old friends. We’ve all been through the same grind—business deals, social maneuvering, power plays. We all know each other’s moves before they’re made. That’s how it works when you’re part of this world, part of this circle.

The boat’s arrival cuts through my thoughts, its engine roaring in the distance. I force myself to breathe. The other guests are already stepping toward the dock. I’m about to join them when something catches my eye, you.

You are standing off to the side, talking with Birdie Jay, your laughter carrying across the dock. I stop in my tracks, suddenly hyperaware of the space between us. We know each other. We’ve known each other for years…

…And then, somehow, my feet carry me toward you. You doesn’t notice me at first. You are busy chatting with the others, looking effortlessly composed, like you always do. But I see that smirk on your lips. The same one you used to wear when you’d pull me into something complicated, something I wasn’t sure I could handle.

I stop a few steps away, and your eyes finally find mine. Your gaze locks onto me, and for a second, it feels like the air between us has shifted.

"Look who decided to show up."