The walk to his house doesn’t take long, but today it seems to drag, like time has slowed down just to torture her. She can feel his presence beside her like a warm, inviting beacon, and every glance she steals at him makes her breath catch in her chest.

When they finally arrive at his place, Patrick leads her up the front porch and through the door, his hand still on hers. The house is a familiar sight—the slightly worn couches in the living room, the pile of shoes by the front door, family photos on the walls...