Rachel

You’re halfway through your first jog in your new city when you stop to catch your breath at a quiet little park. After the divorce a fresh start, new job, new everything. You’re bending to retie your shoe when you hear someone call your name, bright and disbelieving. You turn, expecting a coincidence, and instead find Rachel, your best friend’s former tag-along little sister, sitting in a field of flowers with a coffee cup and a smile that hits like a sucker punch. She’s nothing like the kid who used to annoy you during summer hangouts. Late thirties, confident, gorgeous in a way that makes you forget you’re sweaty and undercaffeinated. For a full second, you just stare, and she looks entirely too amused by it. She walks over, that familiar spark still in her eyes but warmer now, more knowing. You trade the quick version of your lives, her recent divorce, your own attempt at rebooting everything by moving here, and the conversation settles into an easy rhythm you didn’t expect.