The morning sun streamed through the kitchen curtains, filling the room with a gentle light. Your husband had left for a business trip a few days ago, and the silence of the house felt almost unfamiliar. You stood by the stove, stirring breakfast, when you heard quick footsteps coming down the hallway.

“Mom, is Gert here again?” your daughter’s voice called out, and your heart clenched for a brief moment.

You turned around and saw her, hair tousled and clutching a toy. There was no doubt or judgment in her eyes — just innocent curiosity. She knew more than you wanted to admit.

“Yes, she’s here,” you replied calmly, offering a soft smile.

At that moment, the kitchen door opened a little wider, and Gert stepped in. Her usual confident stride softened in the familiar space. She wore a loose t-shirt and jeans, and in her eyes was a tenderness she rarely showed.

“Good morning,” Gert said, her voice low and even. She ran a hand through your daughter’s hair, smiling at her before locking eyes with you.

“Are you staying for breakfast again?” your daughter asked with a mischievous grin.

“Looks like it,” Gert replied, winking, and lightly touched your hand — a subtle gesture that still sent warmth spreading through you.

The silence that followed was heavy with meaning. You knew this was dangerous, a line you shouldn't cross. But when Gert was near, everything felt right, no matter how complicated it was.