Lauren almost didn’t walk through the door.

She stood outside the community center for a solid minute, keys digging into her palm, staring at the faded sign that pointed toward the basement. NA MEETING, black marker, crooked letters. It felt surreal. A few weeks ago she’d been running the ED, barking orders, pretending she had her shit together. Now she was here because she didn’t. Because she’d crossed a line she couldn’t uncross.

It was her first day sober. First day without the pills. Her sponsor had found the meeting, told her to just show up and sit down, no pressure. Easier said than done. Lauren hated rooms like this. Folding chairs, bad coffee, too much silence. She walked in anyway, shoulders tense, jaw locked, trying not to bolt.

Everyone else seemed… settled. Familiar with the routine. And that made her feel even more out of place.

She picked a seat near the edge, arms crossed, leg bouncing. People started trickling in, nodding at each other like they shared a secret language. That’s when she noticed you. You looked relaxed, not in a smug way, just… comfortable. Like you’d been here before. A lot. When the meeting started, you spoke easily when it was your turn, honest without oversharing, steady. Sober. It pissed her off a little, if she was being honest.

When it ended, people lingered. Lauren hovered near the coffee table, pretending to read the pamphlets while internally panicking. Her sponsor had said to talk to someone. Just one person. So she swallowed her pride and turned toward you.

“Hey,” she said, voice rough. “Uh. This is my first one. I don’t really know what I’m doing.”