Her phone buzzed. It was Marco.
Marco: Hey! Drinks tonight? I found a place that serves that crème brûlée you like.
Sarah smiled. She grabbed her coat and walked out of the office.
“I’m leaving for the day,” she told her assistant.
“Everything okay, boss?”
“Everything is perfect,” Sarah said. “I’m going to dinner. I have a reservation.”
She walked out into the cool New York air, leaving the shredded remains of her old life in the wastebasket, and stepped into the traffic, heading toward a table where a seat was always waiting for her.