[nedbedflanders3]

Mara hadn’t planned on going out. She’d had the kind of week that squeezes the joy out of a person, and the only thing she wanted was her couch, her cat, and a show she’d half-watch. But her best friend Tessa had appeared at her door wearing red lipstick and a face that said no arguments.

“You need to be around living people,” Tessa insisted. “Preferably ones who know how to make drinks stronger than your coping mechanisms.”

And so Mara found herself nursing a cherry-colored cocktail in a dim rooftop bar, the kind with string lights that made everyone look warmer, softer, more cinematic than real life.

Then someone slid onto the empty stool beside her.

“Is this seat taken?” The woman’s voice was low, warm, edged with something curious rather than flirty.

Mara turned. The stranger had a tumble of dark curls and the sort of smile that made you feel like she already knew your favorite song.

“Oh, uh, no,” Mara said. “Go for it.”

Tessa, of course, noticed immediately. “Hi, I’m Tessa,” she said, leaning in with her usual fearless friendliness.

“I’m Rowan,” the woman replied. “And you two look like you’re having a better night than I am.”

“That’s debatable,” Mara murmured.

Rowan laughed—soft, surprised. “Okay, now I’m intrigued.”

They talked. God, they talked. About nothing and everything: Rowan’s disastrous attempt at gardening, Tessa’s crusade to get Mara to stop hiding in her apartment, Mara’s habit of overthinking literally everything.
Somewhere between round two and three, the air around them shifted. It wasn’t overt—just small things. The way Rowan’s knee brushed Mara’s and didn’t move away. The way Tessa rested her chin on her hand while studying the two of them like she’d discovered a secret. The way Mara felt… awake, for the first time in weeks.

Rowan excused herself to the restroom. As soon as she was gone, Tessa arched an eyebrow.

“You like her.”

“I don’t even know her.”

“That’s never stopped liking from happening,” Tessa said. “And she likes you.”

Mara felt heat rise to her face. “She’s just friendly.”

“Mm. Sure.” Tessa smirked. “And I’m just a dentist.”

“You’re not—what? Tessa, what are you—?”

Before she could finish, Rowan returned, brushing a curl from her cheek with a slightly nervous gesture. “So… this might be bold,” she said, voice steady but fingers tapping the rim of her glass, “but you two seem—close. And fun. And I’m having a really unexpectedly good night.”

Tessa jumped in. “We are fun.”

Mara shot her a glare. Tessa ignored it.

Rowan continued, “If you’re open to it, I’d love to keep hanging out. Maybe someplace quieter. No pressure—just… I like the energy here.”

Mara’s stomach did a strange little flip. Not fear. Not exactly excitement. Something in between—an edge she’d forgotten she could feel.

She looked at Tessa.

Tessa looked at her.

Something unspoken flickered between them—Are you okay? Are you curious? Are you safe with me? The kind of silent conversation only best friends can have in a single glance.

And Mara surprised herself. “Yeah,” she said, voice steadier than she felt. “I’d like that.”

Rowan’s smile was bright but careful, as if she knew this was a line Mara didn’t cross lightly.

They left the rooftop together, three shadows weaving into the soft glow of the city. On the walk, conversation grew softer, edges blurred with the kind of shared anticipation that has nothing to do with certainty and everything to do with possibility.

At Rowan’s apartment door, she hesitated—not out of doubt, but respect.

“Last chance to bail,” she said, though her eyes held hope.

Mara stepped closer, feeling Tessa’s warm presence at her shoulder. “I’m not bailing,” she said. “Not tonight.”

Rowan exhaled—relief, excitement, maybe a touch of disbelief—and unlocked the door.

What happened inside wasn’t a spectacle or a wild story for gossip. It was gentle. Human. Three people learning each other’s laughter, quirks, boundaries. Compliments murmured with genuine affection. Nervousness turning into warmth. Connection blooming where none of them expected it.

Hours later, the three of them ended up tangled on Rowan’s living-room floor, wrapped in blankets, feet overlapping, sharing leftover takeout straight from the cartons. They were tired and messy and loose with honest smiles.

Tessa nudged Mara. “See?” she whispered. “Told you you needed real people.”

Mara rested her head on Rowan’s shoulder, feeling steady for the first time in ages. “Yeah,” she said softly. “Turns out I really did.”

And Rowan, tracing absent little patterns on the back of Mara’s hand, added with a quiet laugh, “I’m glad you showed up tonight.”

Mara wasn’t one for fate, usually. But sometimes, life didn’t need to be mystical to feel like magic.
Sometimes it just needed one unexpected night, two remarkable women, and the courage to say yes.