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I clutched the warm paper bag of Italian takeout to my chest as I stepped into the elevator of Blackstone Tower. The familiar scent of garlic and basil wafted up, transporting me back to our college days when Gabriel and I would share meals in his tiny apartment, dreaming about our future together. Those memories felt increasingly distant now, fading like photographs left too long in the sun. The elevator climbed smoothly toward the executive floor, and I tried to quiet the nervous flutter in my stomach. We hadn't shared a spontaneous lunch in months. Between Gabriel's increasingly demanding schedule and the growing distance between us, our relationship had become a carefully choreographed dance of polite interactions and hollow kisses. But today