At twenty-eight, Maya had built exactly the life she'd dreamed of since college. Her apartment in Capitol Hill was perfectly curated, her career trajectory was ascending rapidly, and her social calendar was packed with networking events and gallery openings. She had everything under control, or so she thought, until the morning she literally ran into Ethan Rodriguez.
It was a Tuesday in October, and Maya was rushing to catch the 8:15 bus after oversleeping by exactly twelve minutes. Her usual morning routine of yoga, green smoothie, and mindful meditation had been compressed into a frantic shower, grabbed granola bar, and anxious checking of emails on her phone. She was scrolling through her inbox while speed-walking down Pine Street when she collided with something solid and warm.