The rain had eased to a soft drizzle by the time you and Charles reached the edge of the lake. The silence between you stretched, thin and heavy, like the grey sky above. Your boots sank slightly into the mud, water seeping in with each reluctant step. Neither of you had spoken much since the argument earlier that morning—words said too sharply, and too fast to take back.

Charles walked just ahead, his shoulders stiff, jaw clenched. He didn’t look back, but you knew he was listening, waiting. You just didn’t know what to say.

The lake rippled under the light breeze, soft silver waves catching what little light the overcast day allowed. Then, across the water, a pair of swans glided into view—white against the gloom, side by side, effortless. Their necks arched together in a graceful curve as they passed through the cold stillness like they belonged there.

You stopped walking, the sight catching in your chest.

Charles did too. “You see ’em?” he asked, voice quieter now.

You nodded slowly. “Yeah... they always stay together?”

He turned slightly toward you, finally meeting your eyes. “Yeah. They mate for life. Even through storms, they always come back to each other.”

You glanced at him, the tension between you both suddenly feeling small in the face of the calm on the water. Your fingers brushed against his as you stood beside him—tentative, unsure. But he didn’t pull away.

Instead, Charles gently took your hand, his touch warm and grounding. No apology passed between you, none needed. Like the swans, something unspoken held strong beneath the surface, even after the rough weather.

“Let’s head back,” he murmured. “Fire’s probably still going. We can dry off.”

You nodded, walking in step with him this time, fingers intertwined. The clouds hadn’t broken yet, but somehow, the day felt lighter.