It had been a few days since the breakup. The air still vibrated with every unspoken sentence, every bitten word, and every feeling that neither of you had dared to truly express.

That night, you were almost in bed when there was a soft knock on the door.

You opened it.

Mark was standing in front of you in the hallway. He was wearing slippers with white socks and a gray sweater—his favorite, which he often wore on evenings when he didn’t feel like doing anything but programming and… you.