Corley paused, his smile momentarily frozen.


    He swiped left on his phone, and there it was—the photo of the dinner table he''d snapped just moments ago.


    Feeling a sudden impulse, he opened his social media app and posted the picture with a simple caption: "Family Reunion."


    It didn''t take long for the likes to start rolling in, apanied by a smattering ofments from his friends-each more curious than thest:


    "Is this a family dinner?"


    "Corley''s got a new me!"


    "Wow, a personal post! A refreshing break from your usual finance news and stock updates."


    "Mysterious Corley, always up to something big in silence."


    "Well, looks like someone didn''t get the memo about staying single! What''s this about meeting the parents?"


    "Oh, the caption ''Family Reunion'' and such a cozy scene... Are we hearing wedding bells?"


    Corley clicked through thements, scanning them with mild amusement until he paused. Something caught his eye. He zoomed in on the photo and spotted the edge of Roseanne''s face in the corner-just her chin and lips, barely noticeable but enough for his friends to turn into amateur detectives.


    He frowned, considering whether to rify the situation, but decided it wasn''t worth it. Thements were light-hearted, and any exnation might just add fuel to the fire.


    Just then, a message popped up. It was from an old college buddy who now owned a local BBQ joint:


    "Congrats, man! Best wishes."


    "Next time you visit, your meal''s on the house."


    Corley sighed, shaking his head. No point in responding to that one.


    ...


    As night fell and city lights flickered to life, Cliff was organizing a small get- together with York and Murray.


    York initially declined, saying, "Gotta pick up Leda from work, no time."


    But five minutester, York called back, "Actually, I''m free now. Be there soon."


    Cliff was puzzled. "What happened?"


    "Oh, Leda''s workingte," York replied, pausing for effect. "Overnight shift."


    Cliff rolled his eyes. "Leda, Leda, Leda... You''ve got a girlfriend, we get it. Bute on, she''s not even real!"


    Cliff teased, "You sure you''re not catching real feelings?"


    York paused, then barked back, "Get lost! Like I''d fall for a drama queen? I''m not crazy!"


    "Yeah, yeah, I get it. She''s not your type. We''re in room 7029, hurry up."


    When York arrived, Cliff and Murray were already there.


    "Hey, look who decided to show up!"


    love Picked out a couple et


    s for you, right up your alley."


    York frowned. "Who said you could decide for me?"


    Cliff looked taken aback. "What? Say that again?"


    York rolled his eyes. "Don''t just throw anyone my way. I''m selective, you know."


    "You''ve been here before—it''s not like you don''t know the quality."


    York snorted, "I''ve raised my standards. Not just anybody will do."


    Cliff feigned shock. "Wow, who would''ve thought!"


    But York was done talking about it. "Just send them away. And


    remember, I didn''t ask for theel


    don''t spread rumors." Conte belongs to


    Cliff raised an eyebrow. "Your reputation?"


    SO


    York ignored him and made his way to the couch, settling in.


    More familiar faces trickled in-sons and


    faghters of the local elite. They weren''t close friends, busines


    familiar enough to fill a table.


    York soon joined the card game,pletely ignoring the alluring nces of those around him.


    Cliff watched, bewildered. Was he really not interested anymore?