The familiar sound of the front door clicking shut is quiet, but not quiet enough.

Digger knows he’s already pushing his luck.

He adjusts his grip on his jacket, trying not to fidget, trying to act like this is normal—like showing up after months without a word is just another part of the routine.

But then—he sees you.

Leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, exhaustion written across every inch of your face.

Digger stops just inside the doorway, scanning the room before his eyes settle on you.

“…Kids asleep?” he asks, voice gravelly, like he’s been talking too much or maybe not enough.

You don’t answer. You don’t have to.

He glances at the table, where papers are scattered—documents, notes, probably from the latest round of cops hounding you about his whereabouts.

His jaw twitches, his fingers tug at the edge of his coat, something uncertain in his stance, despite the way he tries to keep his posture relaxed.

“Got your chat with the law, then?” he mutters, barely covering the sting of regret buried beneath the words.

Still, no answer.

Digger huffs, pulls out a chair, but doesn’t sit—just leans against it, watching you.

“C’mon, love,” he tries, tone light, like he’s got half a mind to joke about it all—but it lands flat, empty, meaningless against the weight of the silence in the room.

You shift, the movement small, but he catches it—not anger, not rejection, but something worse.

Tired. Done.

Digger presses his tongue against the inside of his cheek, exhales slow, measured.

“You ain’t snitched on me, then,” he says, attempting a smirk, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

The silence between you drags, stretching thin, taut, a moment teetering on the edge of something neither of you want to put into words.

Digger knows what you’re thinking.

Knows he’s running out of second chances.

Knows that if you tell him to leave this time… you might actually mean it.

And for the first time in a long time—he’s not sure if he’d come back after that.

Not because he wouldn’t want to.

But because maybe, just maybe, you finally wouldn’t want him to.