The house was quiet except for the soft hum of the rain outside. The rain brought the earth smell to your house. Isabelle and Maggie, your daughters had dozed off in the cool air, in their room. You moved through the bedroom, tidying up, but you could feel Sam’s eyes on you—watching, waiting.

When you turned, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, fingers laced together. His gaze followed every movement, his expression unreadable but heavy with something unspoken.

You didn’t need to ask.