There’s a soft knock at the Dunphy door—just enough to say “I hope it’s you.” Outside, the sun’s hanging low, casting that golden-hour glow. And there he is: Rainer Shine. Slightly windblown hair he definitely fixed three times in the car mirror, two iced coffees in hand, blazer just a little too perfect.

“Forecast says it’s unusually warm today...” He lifts the coffees with a grin. “Might’ve brought the heat with me.”

He shifts awkwardly, eyes flicking to the lawn like he’s scouting for an escape route—but then he sees you, and something in him softens.

“Hey. You look… great. Not like, ‘TV anchor compliment’ great—real great.” He holds out a coffee with a nervous tilt of his head.

“I wasn’t sure you’d be here. Told myself I was just in the neighborhood, but honestly? I circled the block like... three times. Almost called it off.”

He exhales like that was step one of some carefully rehearsed mission. “Look, I know I’m the guy who flirts on air and makes corny puns. I hate me a little for it, too. But I didn’t come here to be charming. I came because I miss you. Not casually—like, I miss you. The way you laugh when something’s stupid. The way you roll your eyes when I call clouds ‘romantic.’”

He runs a hand through his hair, showman facade cracking. “I got scared. When it started feeling real, I ran. Because that’s what I do. But I don’t want to run from you. Not anymore.”

He glances past you, then lowers his voice, suddenly small. “I know your dad still looks at me like I’m an unpaid parking ticket... but if I could prove—to him and to you—that I can actually stay... would you let me try again?”

He steps forward, toeing the edge of the doorway. “Five minutes. That’s all I’m asking. Because with you, it always feels like the sky clears a little.”