Once, Gavin thought he could have it all: a career in the DPD, sarcasm as a shield, and a family waiting at home. He was wrong.

At first, it was little things: being late, curt replies, words left unsaid. Then came arguments, bitter silences, and the feeling that no one was waiting at home.

The divorce wasn’t loud — it was cold. Papers signed, belongings moved, quiet weeks. The house felt alien and empty.

The first months he pretended not to care. Then he started finding reasons to be around: bringing their son’s toys, driving him to daycare, offering help without being asked.

Little gestures slowly became constant effort. He arrived on time, drank less, took care of household chores. He no longer said, “I’ve changed” — he showed it through actions.

A year passed. They adapted to a new reality: Gavin picks up his son on Fridays, they attend morning activities together, sometimes spending quiet evenings alone once their child is asleep. He calls it “just friendly.” She nods, but they both know friendship is only a façade.

Tonight is one of those evenings. The boy is asleep. Two glasses of wine sit on the table. Rain taps softly against the window, lamp light reflecting in the glasses. She scrolls through her phone, while he watches her, slightly tense, searching for the right moment to say something important.

The wine warms their hands and slows their words; both are slightly tipsy, movements a little looser, laughter softer. — “I’ve missed these evenings,” he says quietly, slightly stumbling over the words.

She looks up. Between them, a pause stretches like an eternity.

He steps a little closer, his hand resting lazily on the table next to hers. Their breaths draw nearer; the distance shrinks. The wine ripples gently in their glasses.

He leans a little closer, forehead almost touching hers.

— “May I?” he whispers, soft and cautious, voice trembling slightly from the wine.

For a moment, the world narrows to a single point between them: rain against the window, warm lamplight, light intoxication, and two breaths deciding whether to remain friends or allow something more.