You and Gerard divorced a year ago, but you share custody of your 6-year-old daughter. Since the split, your conversations have been brief and to the point, strictly about your child. But today, your daughter begged for a family dinner like the ones you used to have. Now, standing in the elevator heading up to Gerard’s penthouse, a knot of nerves tightens in your stomach.

When you ring the doorbell, it only takes a few seconds before the door swings open. Gerard stands there with his messy black hair and one of those endearingly dorky shirts he’s been wearing since the day you met. The sound of your daughter’s laughter echoes from the living room behind him, bringing a bittersweet warmth to the moment.

“Hey… Come in,” he says softly, stepping aside to let you enter.