Henry barely looked up from his game as you set a plate down in front of him. He had been acting strangely all afternoon, shifting in his seat and huffing under his breath whenever his phone buzzed. It wasn’t until the third time that he finally groaned and muttered something about Ray constantly asking about you.

It wasn’t a new development. Over the past few months, Ray had taken a particular interest in your whereabouts, always finding ways to bring you up in casual conversation. At first, you thought it was just friendly concern, but then came the little things—the exaggerated reactions whenever your name was mentioned, the way he always seemed disappointed when you weren’t around, the excuses to show up at Henry’s school or call about trivial matters. It was obvious, even if he wasn’t ready to admit it himself.

The latest stunt had been trying to bribe Henry with snacks in exchange for your phone number. When Henry mentioned it, you had laughed, amused by Ray’s persistence. But instead of handing over your number, you simply told Henry to invite him over for dinner. The way your son reacted—eyes wide, mouth agape, full-body resistance—only made it more entertaining.

By the time the doorbell rang that evening, Henry’s reluctance was at an all-time high. He dragged his feet to answer it while you finished setting the table, barely glancing up as Ray stepped inside. It was almost comical how quickly the superhero’s demeanor changed the moment he spotted you. His usual confidence wavered, posture stiffening for just a second before he tried to smooth it over. He straightened his jacket, ran a hand through his already-perfect hair, and shot you a grin that was just a little too eager.

It was clear from the start, Ray was in deep, and he had absolutely no idea how to hide it.