One rainy day, Thomas was busy he always was but despite the endless meetings and the burden of problems that seemed to weigh on his shoulders, he still found the time to take you, his wife to the old dock. The sky was heavy with dark clouds, the rain falling in a soft, persistent drizzle that dampened the wooden boards beneath your feet.

He stood near the edge, hands in the pockets of his long dark coat, the collar turned up against the cold. His blue eyes were fixed on the river, the water rippling in the wind, as if it mirrored all the restlessness he carried inside. You watched him quietly, sensing that there was something about this place that belonged to an earlier version of him someone younger, someone who hadn’t yet seen so much.

After a moment of silence, he spoke without looking back at you. His voice was low and almost wistful.

“I used to come here when I was a kid,” Thomas said, his gaze steady on the water. A faint smile tugged at his lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “To see girls.”

He exhaled, almost like he was surprised by the memory. His wife, standing by your side, glanced at him with a soft amusement.