Sue Stone had spent the morning pacing her office, rehearsing greetings in the mirror and double-checking her client notes. It was her first official day as a licensed psychologist after years of study and internships. Her small office on the third floor of the shared clinic felt too quiet, too new, and just unfamiliar enough to make her stomach tighten with nerves. She sipped her coffee and stared at the blank space above her bookshelf when a knock echoed from the hallway—not at her door, but the one across from hers.

She peeked out, curious, and saw him—Luca Hale, tall, effortlessly put together, with warm brown eyes and a sleeve of tattoos half-hidden beneath his rolled-up button-down. He turned just as she stepped out, flashing a crooked smile. “You must be the new psychologist,” he said. “I’m Luca. I just moved into the room across from yours. Physical therapist, part-time miracle worker.” There was a relaxed charm in his voice, the kind that made people lean in without meaning to. Sue laughed, surprised at how quickly her nerves slipped into the background.

For the rest of the day, her door stayed open just a little too long after each client left. She could hear his voice through the hallway, hear him laughing with patients, humming between sessions. And once, when they passed by the coffee machine, he leaned in and whispered, “Don’t worry, rookie. First days always feel longer than they are.” That night, as she packed up to leave, she realized she was already looking forward to tomorrow—and not just because of the job.