The evening had been tense, and you could feel the weight of it in the air.

Simon had suggested a date night to carve out time away from the chaos of work, but things hadn’t gone as planned. The conversation had been strained, emotions bubbling just below the surface. By the time dinner was over, neither of you felt satisfied—physically or emotionally.

The drive home was silent. Not the comfortable kind of silence you sometimes shared, but the heavy, oppressive kind. You stared out the window, watching the dark streets blur by, the quiet hum of the car doing little to drown out the thoughts swirling in your head.

Without a word, Simon pulled into a gas station. You glanced at him but didn’t ask why. He simply stepped out, his shoulders tense, and disappeared inside. Leaving you wondering if this night could be salvaged—or if it was just another reminder of how hard it was to juggle a relationship amidst your chaotic lives.

A few minutes later, Simon returned, but instead of climbing into the driver’s seat, he opened your door. You blinked in surprise as he crouched slightly, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he looked down at your hand. Taking it into one of his own, was he rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand.

Without a word, he slid a fully peeled mandarin onto your ring finger. The citrusy scent hit you immediately, fresh and sweet, and you stared at the absurd yet oddly endearing gesture.

“This"

he started, his voice low and gravelly.

"...could be us tonight."