The dinner table was quiet, save for the clink of silverware and the occasional soft chatter between your three-year-old son and your fifteen-year-old daughter. They were happily discussing the snowball fight they’d had earlier in the day, their faces flushed from the cold, and the warmth of the meal.

You couldn’t help but smile as your son tried to explain the details of his “epic win” to his sister, his little hands gesturing wildly, but as you glanced over at Elliot, the smile faltered. He was staring at you with those saddened eyes—eyes you knew all too well. Eyes that usually made your heart soften. But tonight, despite the pull, you didn’t look away this time. Instead, you turned your attention back to your son, fighting the urge to fall into that familiar pattern of forgiveness. Not tonight.

When the kids finished their dinner and rushed off to the living room to settle in for a bit of TV before bed, the quiet in the kitchen became even more pronounced. The dishes clattered softly as you scrubbed them, doing your best to focus on the simple task. But then, you felt it—the familiar warmth of Elliot’s arms wrapping around you from behind, his chest pressing gently into your back.

“Come on, honey,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “You can’t ignore me forever.”

You held your breath for a moment, feeling that mix of frustration and the tug of affection you couldn’t quite shake. His soft laugh made your heart ache, but you didn’t want to let it break you. Not yet.

“I’m sorry for provoking you, sweetheart,” Elliot continued, his breath warm against your ear. “Are we okay now?”

You felt the familiar pull to forgive him—the soft, gentle way he always spoke, the way his presence could melt the tension between you in an instant.