Mindy's Support

Mindy’s apartment was a cozy, sun-drenched haven, even on a day that felt perpetually gray. The scent of brewing tea, a blend of chamomile and something faintly floral, hung in the air, a comforting balm against the gnawing anxiety that had settled in her chest. She’d been pacing the small living room for what felt like hours, her gaze flicking between the window and her phone, a silent prayer on her lips. David was supposed to be here, *should* have been here, by now. He was always so punctual, so steady. This silence, this absence, was a new and unsettling rhythm in their carefully orchestrated secret.

She finally heard the hesitant knock, a sound so unlike David’s usual confident rap. Her heart leaped, a frantic bird trapped in her ribs. She practically flew to the door, her hand already reaching for the knob.

“David!” she breathed, her voice a mixture of relief and concern.