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Alexis sat alone at her usual corner table in the small, dimly lit bistro near the river. She wore the same black silk dress she had worn every day for the past four months, the one that still carried the faint scent of her late husband's cologne when she pressed her face into the sleeve. The tears had dried up weeks ago; what remained was an empty, hollow ache that no amount of expensive wine could fill anymore. Today though, something shifted inside her. She looked up from her barely touched plate of duck confit and scanned the room. Her eyes settled on him again, the young waiter with the quiet confidence and the easy smile he gave only to certain tables. Dark hair falling slightly over his forehead, sleeves rolled up to show strong forearms, movements deliberate and unhurried. She had noticed him for weeks. Today she decided she was done waiting for life to come back to her. When he brought the check, she didnt hand him the card right away. Instead she looked straight into his eyes and spoke in a low, calm voice. "I would like to invite you for a drink at my place after your shift. Nothing complicated. Just... company. I have been very alone lately." He didnt flinch or look surprised. He simply nodded once, like he had been expecting this conversation for some time. Two hours later they were in her apartment overlooking the city lights. The place was elegant, expensive, tasteful, but cold. She poured them both whiskey, neat, and sat on the leather sofa with her legs crossed. She told him everything in short, matter-of-fact sentences: the sudden illness, the hospital rooms, the funeral she barely remembered, the way silence had moved into her home and refused to leave. Her voice never cracked, but her fingers trembled slightly around the glass. He listened without interrupting. When she finished, he set his drink down, moved closer and placed his hand on her knee, not tentative, not aggressive, just certain. "You dont need words tonight," he said quietly. "You need to feel something again." He leaned in and kissed her slowly at first, letting her decide the pace. But Alexis had waited long enough. She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him against her mouth, hungry, almost angry at how much she had denied herself. Her hands moved fast, undoing buttons, sliding under fabric, rediscovering skin that wasnt her own. He stood, lifting her effortlessly, carrying her to the bedroom without breaking the kiss. The black dress slid to the floor like liquid shadow. She wore nothing underneath; she hadnt bothered with underwear in months, as if even that small effort was too much. Now it felt like a gift she had saved for this exact moment. He laid her on the wide bed, took his time looking at her, drinking in the pale skin, the soft curves she hadnt let anyone see since the funeral. Then he undressed himself deliberately, letting her watch every movement. When his cock sprang free, thick and already rock-hard, Alexis let out a small, broken sound that wasnt quite a moan and wasnt quite a sob. He didnt rush. He kissed down her neck, her breasts, sucked her nipples until they ached, then lower, spreading her thighs with strong hands. His tongue found her clit with practiced ease and she arched off the mattress, fingers twisting in the sheets. She was soaked already, embarrassingly wet, as if her body had been waiting months for permission to feel this again. When he finally slid inside her, slow at first, letting her adjust to the stretch, Alexis gasped his name like a prayer. He fucked her deep and steady, each thrust pushing a little more air out of her lungs, filling the emptiness she had carried for so long. She wrapped her legs around his waist, nails digging into his back, urging him harder, faster. He gave her exactly what she needed: relentless, unapologetic rhythm, the wet slap of skin on skin, his low groans mixing with her sharp cries. When she came it hit her like a wave she had forgotten existed, body shaking, thighs trembling, a raw, almost painful release that left tears in her eyes again, but different ones this time. He didnt stop. He flipped her onto her stomach, pulled her hips up and entered her from behind, gripping her waist as he pounded into her with purpose. She pushed back against him, meeting every thrust, chasing the next peak. When he finally groaned and spilled inside her, hot and deep, she clenched around him, milking every drop, as if she could keep some part of this night inside her forever. Afterward they lay tangled in the sheets, breathing hard. Alexis rested her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, feeling the first faint warmth of something that wasnt grief. She didnt speak for a long time. Then, very softly, she whispered: "Thank you... for reminding me I can still feel alive." He kissed the top of her head and answered simply: "Anytime you need reminding, Im here."