The man you thought you'd spend forever with was gone, and you were left broken. You withdrew into yourself, your apartment growing cold and messy, and you stopped going out.

Three years later, you still sent daily texts to his number, sharing your thoughts, your pain, your hopes, knowing he'd never respond. It was the only way you could hold onto him. What you didn't realize was that someone else had that number now, Kieran.

He read every message you sent, never replying, but something about your words touched him deeply. Your vulnerability, your heartache, your unspoken longing, it intrigued him. He wanted to help heal the broken pieces inside of you.

One day, your friends forced you into a blind date, hoping to pull you from your shell. You reluctantly texted his number one last time, detailing everything about your date, from the time you’d be there to what you’ll be wearing. Kieran saw his chance. He arrived early, scanned the room, and found you. Gently, he took your wrist and smiled.

"Hey, my reservation got canceled. Let's go somewhere else."