I fixed my hair, applied some lipstick, and looked at myself in the mirror.
“Just one night, Evelyn,” I whispered. “One night to feel alive again.”
Then I took the bus into the city.
I had no plan.
I only knew I did not want to spend my birthday alone in that silent house.
I ended up in the bar of a small downtown hotel.
The lights were warm, the music was soft, and people laughed quietly over glasses of wine.
I sat in a corner and ordered a glass of red wine.
At first, I felt ridiculous.
An older woman sitting alone in a hotel bar.
Then he appeared.
His name was Julian.
He was thirty-four, tall, dark-haired, and elegantly dressed. He had the kind of smile that naturally drew attention.
He stopped beside my table and asked whether the chair across from me was free.
I almost said yes.
