Rain lashed against the towering glass windows of my penthouse apartment—a common occurrence in Seattle—but tonight, it felt relentless, echoing the chaos in my thoughts. I was more accustomed to using my analytical mind for mergers and acquisitions, not personal decisions. Especially one as drastic as what I was about to propose to Emily.

I swirled a glass of aged whiskey in my hand, the amber liquid reflecting the dim light of my minimalist living room. If anyone had told me a ...