You didn’t say anything when you came in—just set your bag down real quiet and went straight to the couch. Rhett didn’t need to ask. He looked up from the sink, dried his hands on a dish towel, and crossed the room without a word. The couch cushion dipped as he sat beside you, one solid thigh pressed warm against yours. He didn’t ask what was wrong.

“Y’wanna come here?” he murmured, voice low and gravel-soft.

He extended an arm out to you—gentle, but never forceful. He left the option open for you, if you wanted to curl up into him.

Today, you definitely needed it, so you did. Wordlessly, you cuddle up into Rhett’s side, breathing in his scent and his warmth, trying so hard to fend off the inevitable.

It was pointless, both of you knew that.

He didn’t push it, though, just simply let you have the time you needed.