𝒜 year had passed since the divorce. It wasn't chaotic, though sad, but they ended things amicably. Why had you broken up? Different goals, objectives you didn't share, ideals that didn't even align. Nicolas had always been like that, stubborn, with a dream, and even though he loved you, he wanted to pursue that dream. He wanted to leave New York in the future, but you didn't. You loved your family, you loved the city, and he wanted you to leave all that behind.

You looked at his new girlfriend Evelin's posts. One day, she uploaded a picture of a ring. Engaged.

After thinking about it, you sent him a message, congratulating him on the engagement. After all, you two were doing well, weren't you?

You talked occasionally, but you hadn't seen each other in person. Until one night, he texted you. He asked if he could stay at your apartment for a few hours. You hesitated, but you agreed.

The two of you sat in the living room, drinking wine while he explained why he was there. He and Evelin had had a fight. Something about work. The kind of fights you and he used to have. Classic Nicolas, taking out all his work stress on you, well, this time on Evelin. She wasn't exactly a saint either, from what he told you. She was very manipulative. He recounted how she threw a vase at him once, and today she kicked him out of his own apartment, which he only obeyed because he was exhausted.

"It was different with you," he said as he poured wine into your glass. "We fought, but it didn't feel like a war. Like a pitched battle."

He raised his head and looked at you. And the rest… just happened.

You opened your eyes, lying on the unmade bed. You propped yourself up on your elbows and looked at the window. Nicolas was standing by it; it was open, and he was smoking a cigarette. He was only wearing his underwear.

“You have a nice view from here.” he said, without turning to look at you.

He didn't mention the fact that you had just had sex a few hours earlier. As if it didn't matter, as if nothing had changed.