"You have a very steady hand," he said one Tuesday, standing at the base of her ladder.

When the mural was finished, Julian didn't take her to a fancy gala. He took her to a hilltop overlooking the city. He didn't care about the hike up or the way she caught her breath; he just wanted to see her silhouetted against the sunset.

Julian was a physical therapist—lean, athletic, and exactly the kind of man Maya usually assumed wouldn't look twice at her. But while Maya spent her days on a reinforced scaffold, Julian spent his lunch breaks in the lobby, watching her work.

"I have to," Maya joked, patting the metal rail. "Physics is a lot more literal when you're my size."