The jazz club on Oak Street was dimly lit,its windows fogged with condensation from the winter air.Alex paused outside,staring at the(familiar) sign—"Midnight Melodies"—its neon letters flickering like a memory.It had been years since he'd last been here,but the sound of a saxophone's low hum drifting through the door was enough to pull him in.
Inside,the club was crowded,the air thick with smoke and the murmur of voices.Alex squeezed past patrons,his eyes scanning the room until they landed on their table—the one in the corner,beneath a stained-glass lamp that cast a kaleidoscope of colors across the wooden surface.He slid into the booth,the worn leather cool beneath his fingertips.
The band was mid-set,a soulful rendition of"Here's That Rainy Day."The singer's voice was smooth,haunting,and for a moment,Alex could almost see Emily swaying to the rhythm,her hand in his,her laughter echoing in the hushed space.
"Dance with me?"she'd whispered that night,years ago,her eyes bright with mischief.He'd hesitated—always clumsy on the dance floor—but she'd pulled him up anyway,her palm warm against his.They'd moved slowly,clumsily at first,until the music seemed to wrap around them like a second skin.
"This is our song,"she'd said,leaning her head on his shoulder.
Now,the melody hung in the air like a ghost.Alex closed his eyes,letting the notes fill the silence.When the song ended,he left a crumpled napkin on the table—scrawled with a single line:"Save this seat for me."
As he stepped back into the cold,the club's laughter faded behind him.He walked toward the river,the city lights shimmering on the water's surface.In his pocket,he clutched a ticket stub from their first concert here—a faded strip of paper he'd kept tucked in his wallet for luck.
"Love is the smallest moments that feel like forever,"Emily had once written.Tonight,the club had felt like both—a small moment,stretched thin with memory.
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