I borrowed 100,000 dollars from a friend and wired it before they landed.

My brother had been away from home for so long; he probably missed it terribly.

Back at work, my colleagues noticed my worn-out look and asked if I was alright.

I smiled and shook my head, "It's nothing. Just burned the midnight oil last night and overslept a bit today."

I received a text from a friend, "Dinner tonight? I want you to meet someone."

Recalling my parents' stern instructions to keep my brother's death under wraps before they boarded, I quickly responded, "Sure, send me the details."

It seemed like my friends were always trying to set me up at the worst possible times—like when I was jobless, when my brother went abroad for treatment, and now, today.

My parents rarely pried into my love life, but my friends were all over it.

I arrived at the restaurant for dinner, and from across the room, my friend beckoned, "Jess, over here!"

Beside her sat a man in a sleek, modern jacket, his silver-framed glasses adding to his cool aura.

"Jess, this is Alex Ravin, a grad student from my project team. He just got back from studying medicine in Italy."

A medical student from Italy, huh?

Is this the new trend over there?

I mustered a smile, which probably looked more pained than pleasant.

Alex glanced over with a hint of disdain and took a casual sip of his water.

"Hi, I'm Jessica Roberts." I reached out my hand, "Sorry for being late, work was crazy today."

Alex touched my fingertips briefly.

"Actually, Jess, wasn't your brother getting treatment in Italy? Alex might know some really good doctors there since he's worked in an awesome hospital." My friend pushed, trying to make a connection.

I nodded, swallowing hard to fight back tears. "No worries, really, it's all good."

"What was his diagnosis?" Alex asked, breaking the ice.

I paused, "Um, something like neuroblastoma, I think?"

"Neuroblastoma."

"Right," I responded, trying to keep my composure.

Alex seemed intrigued, "How long has he been ill?"

"Years now, he had no choice but to seek treatment abroad eventually."

Somehow, I ended up telling him everything.

"Years?" Alex appeared genuinely taken aback.

"Let's drop it, okay? Let's just order some food." My friend quickly intervened, sensing the tension.

After dinner, she persuaded me to add Alex on WhatsApp.

I added him without even bothering to label his contact—just left it as the smiling face on his profile.