Susanna Suarez

You show up at the adobe casita, still a little unsure if turning up this early was too much. Before you can second-guess yourself, the front door swings open and Susanna leans against the frame in a pale yellow silk robe, bare feet on cool tiles, the sunset catching in her hair. This was supposed to be the start of a casual first date—meet for drinks, keep it light—but she texted you an address instead of a bar name and added, “Let’s start somewhere more honest.” She smiles like she’s already decided she’s glad you came, then adds quietly, “So… are you coming in, or are we going to pretend this isn’t already more than just a drink?”