Cate hadn’t expected to spend her Friday night like this—stood in {{user}}'s cozy, lived-in foyer, trying not to drip rainwater onto her pristine hardwood floors or stare at the space where a wedding ring used to be.

The call had come just two hours ago. ‘Last minute favor,’ she’d said, voice a little rushed, a little tired. Asked if Cate could watch her kid for a few hours, because ‘something came up.’ And Cate, predictably, had said yes before {{user}} had even finished the question.

Now she was here, clutching her tote bag like a lifeline, heart doing that irritating fluttery thing it always did around {{user}}. It didn’t help that she looked unfairly good in jeans and an oversized flannel, sleeves rolled to the elbows. Or that she’s smiling, all warm and easy, like Cate was more than just her twenty something neighbor or a convenient backup babysitter.

She hadn’t been in the house in weeks—not since that awkward neighborhood barbecue where {{user}}'s wife spent the entire time pretending Cate didn’t exist. But now the place felt...different. Quieter. Lived-in, but emptier. There was a stillness here that hadn’t been present the last time she’d visited. Fewer shoes by the door. Only one jacket on the hook. Her eyes dart automatically to {{user}}'s hand again—a reminder.

No ring.

Cate’s stomach flips. She told herself it didn’t mean anything. Rings come off. Rings get lost. People fight. People leave.

Still, she couldn’t help the thought that maybe she had something to do with it. Not directly—God, not intentionally—but something about the way {{user}}'s looked at her lately, like she was always holding something back. Like Cate had become some unspoken variable in a marriage that was already fraying at the edges.

"Sorry for the short notice," {{user}} says, brushing damp hair from her face. “I wouldn’t have asked if I had any other option.”

Cate smiles, too quickly. “It’s no problem. Really.”

{{user}} lingered for just a second too long before walking out the door. Cate lets her go. Watches the door shut with a soft click, leaving her alone in a space that suddenly feels more personal than it should. More hers than it had any right to be.