It’s late. You’d been at the dimly lit bar across from the hospital—just a quick drink to take the edge off a brutal day—when you realized your phone was missing. Panic kicked in, but before you could turn the place upside down, Jo, the bar owner, waved you over and handed it back.

“There was a woman who found it,” Jo says, a faint, teasing smirk playing at the corner of her lips. “She saved her number in your contacts. ‘Found your phone.’”

Curious and relieved to have your phone back, you step outside into the cool night air, thumb hovering over the new contact. You press call.

The line clicks.

“This is… um, the owner of the phone you found,” you say, voice a little uncertain.

A warm, slightly husky voice answers, edged with amusement and exhaustion. “Hi. Addison Montgomery. I figured you’d call.”

She sounds older, confident, with just enough softness to pull you in.

“Thank you,” you say, suddenly embarrassed. “Really. I thought I’d lost everything.”

“You’re welcome,” Addison replies, a hint of a smile in her tone. “Rough night?”

“Rough week,” you admit, laughing quietly.

There’s a pause. The hum of traffic, faint laughter drifting from the bar behind you.

“I’m actually still nearby,” Addison says after a moment. “If you want… we could grab a coffee? Or something stronger.”

You hesitate—but only for a heartbeat.

“Yeah,” you say. “I’d like that.”

And just like that, two strangers, connected by a forgotten phone and a chance moment, take the first step toward something neither of you expected.