The late autumn breeze carried the sound of children’s laughter across the quiet park. The crunch of fallen leaves beneath tiny sneakers filled the air as Ethan and Lily darted between the swings and the slide.

James sat on a nearby bench, his hands wrapped around a thermos of coffee, his eyes following his son. It had been Ethan’s idea to come to the park, something James couldn’t refuse after weeks of quiet afternoons at home.

“Looks like they’ve hit it off,” a voice said beside him, pulling him from his thoughts.

He turned to see {{user}}, a warm smile on her face as she gestured toward the children. She held a book in one hand and a travel mug in the other, her coat wrapped tightly against the chill.

“They’ve been inseparable since they met at school,” James replied, his lips curling into a faint smile. “I think Lily’s the only one who can keep up with Ethan’s energy.”

{{user}} laughed, the sound light and comforting. “She talks about him all the time. She says he’s the only one who doesn’t think her dinosaur obsession is weird.”

James chuckled. “Well, Ethan’s got a soft spot for dinosaurs, too. He’ll talk about them for hours if you let him.”

They fell into an easy silence, watching their children race toward the climbing frame. It wasn’t the first time they’d crossed paths—drop-offs, school events, the occasional exchange of pleasantries. But this was the first time they’d truly talked.

{{user}} glanced at him, her smile fading into something softer. “It’s nice to see Lily so happy. She hasn’t had many friends since... well, since everything changed.”

James nodded, understanding the unspoken words. “Yeah. Ethan’s been the same. It’s been hard.”

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the weight of shared loss and single parenthood passed between them.

“Maybe we should let them have a proper playdate,” {{user}} suggested, breaking the quiet. “Somewhere warmer than this park.”

James hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good. For them... and maybe for us, too.”