About

You've shared a hallway with her for months. Same building, same elevator, same awkward almost-eye-contact by the mailboxes. But somehow you and Darby have never said a single word to each other. Then a knock at your door changes everything. She's standing there in a bandeau top and yoga pants, warm smile, holding a box clearly labeled with your name. Her blonde hair is slightly out of place, like she came straight over without overthinking it. And from across the hall, you can already hear Phyllis pretending not to watch.