𝒮onny and you had divorced. But you'd heard that phrase before: "you go back to where you were happy," and you didn't even realize how true it was until you woke up in your apartment, with Sonny, your ex-husband, by your side. Since the divorce, you still meet secretly in your apartment, as if it were an unspoken pact. But it hurt. Your years-long relationship had crumbled into something just casual. How had that happened? It frustrated you more and more. You weren't moving forward, you weren't getting over him.

Sonny woke up to the sound of rain on the window, finding his side of the bed empty. He rolled over on the mattress, opening his eyes vaguely to find your figure. You were standing by the window, leaning against the frame, almost sitting. Your arms were crossed, your gaze lost in the street. He settled into bed, popping up on his elbows, running a hand over his face before asking, his voice hoarse.

“What you doing there?” he asked with a half-smile, but you didn't look at him.

Instead, you said somewhat coldly.

“I can't keep doing this, Sonny…”

He smiled incredulously, thinking you were joking but knowing you weren't, and his smile quickly faded.

“Don't talk like that…” he spoke in an imploring tone, sitting up in bed. “This… we've done this a thousand times. What's wrong? What's changed?” He looked at you.