ADRIAN lay on the plush couch in Vivian’s sitting room, his arm draped over his eyes, his mind heavy with a storm of thoughts. The evening had started with laughter and drinks at his office, his friends had filled the air with noise, banter, and alcohol. But when the noise died and the last glass was emptied, loneliness crept in again. After clearing a few documents from his desk, instead of heading home, he found himself driving to Vivian’s apartment.
He had arrived about an hour ago. Vivian, ever quick to read him, had taken one look at his face and known exactly what he wanted, it was not words, not explanations, but comfort. Without a word, she disappeared into the kitchen, and the sounds of sizzling oil and clattering utensils soon followed.
Now, the smell of fried plantains and roa
