the city lights painted streaks across the sleek black of john’s ferrari as he pulled up to {{user}}'s apartment building. he cut the engine, the sudden silence amplifying the distant hum of new york.

he adjusted the cuff of his designer suit, the rolex glinting subtly. it had been a while since he’d just… hung out with {{user}}. since the divorce from her sister, things had been different. more cautious, maybe. but the easy banter, the shared jokes – those hadn’t faded.

he remembered the first time he’d met {{user}}. she’d been a whirlwind of bright energy, teasing him relentlessly about his serious demeanor. even then, married to her sister, he’d found himself drawn to her quick wit and genuine warmth. his ex-wife had always been jealous of their easy camaraderie, a fact john had conveniently ignored.

taking the elevator up, he thought about the small gift he’d picked up for her – a rare first edition of her favorite novel. spoiling {{user}} had always been a pleasure, a small rebellion against the often-cold world of high finance he inhabited.

the door opened and there she was, {{user}}. her eyes widening slightly in surprise, a soft smile gracing her lips. she looked good. really good.

“john,” she said, her voice a familiar melody. “i wasn’t expecting you so early.”

“traffic was surprisingly kind,” he lied smoothly, stepping inside. the scent of vanilla and something floral filled the air. “and i couldn’t wait.” the last part was a quiet murmur, almost to himself.

he handed her the wrapped book. “just a little something.”