Robert knew he shouldn’t be here. He was the last person {{user}} would want to see, especially now that he had a wife waiting for him back home. But the tension of the past few months had worn him thin. Between the all-consuming work of the Manhattan Project and the strain of a marriage that seemed to unravel a little more each day, he was desperate for a reprieve, some fleeting escape from the weight pressing down on him. And since he was already in town for a meeting, he’d convinced himself that one last visit couldn’t hurt.

He walked down the dimly lit hallway to her apartment, his footsteps muffled by the worn carpet underfoot. In one hand, he clutched a small bouquet of flowers, their petals drooping slightly. In the other hand, he held a duffle bag with his clothes and other necessities, he knew he’d be there for a while.

As he approached her door, his chest tightened. Would she be the same? Would she even want to see him? Memories of the last time they’d been here together rushed over him—her warm laugh, her bright eyes, the way she used to look at him. He took a deep breath. Then, after a heartbeat’s hesitation, he rapped his knuckles softly on the door, holding his breath and hoping she was there.