LEILA
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I returned to New York late one evening, the city lights a familiar, comforting sight as the plane descended, a glittering tapestry spread out below.
The energy of the city hit me the moment I stepped out of the terminal, a jolt of adrenaline that felt more like home than Kai’s quiet apartment.
I went straight to his place, didn’t tell him I was coming, an impulsive decision, fueled by a desperate need to… to feel something.
To see if the connection was still there, or if the distance, the time spent immersed in my own thoughts, my own needs, had solidified the growing disconnect.
A desperate need to provoke a reaction, perhaps. To see if the raw, intense spark was still there, hidden beneath the layers of normalcy.
I was dressed deliberately. Not for a business tri
