Later that afternoon, the house was unusually quiet. Ethan had gone to a friend's birthday party, leaving Sophia and Adrian alone under one roof. The silence between them wasn't cold anymore—it was fragile, like glass. Breakable.
Sophia found herself wandering into the living room, where Adrian sat on the couch, flipping through patient reports on his tablet. He glanced up, surprised.
"You okay?" he asked.
She nodded, walking toward the window. The sun filtered through the curtains, casting golden stripes on the floor. "It's strange. The house feels… too still without Ethan."
Adrian chuckled softly. "He has that effect."
Silence stretched again, until Sophia broke it. "Adrian…"
He looked up.
She hesitated, then said, "Do you ever… regret it?"
"Leaving? The divorce?" His voice was cautious.
She shook her head. "No. Not that. I mean… everything that happened. Us. How we fell apart."
He put the tablet aside, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. "Every day," he admitted.
Sophia turned, facing him. Her eyes glistened—not from sadness, but from truth. "I do too."
Adrian stood slowly. "Then why didn't you tell me sooner? About Ethan. About your feelings. About… everything."
"Because I was scared," she said, voice trembling. "Scared you wouldn't want me. Scared you'd moved on. Scared that I'd love you more than you loved me."
He stepped closer, just a breath away. "You still don't get it, do you?"
She looked up.
"I never stopped loving you, Sophia."
Her heart stuttered.
But before she could answer, the front door creaked open—Ethan's voice rang out, full of excitement. "Mom! Dad! Look at what I got!"
They both stepped back, distance returning just as fast.
Sophia smiled and wiped the corner of her eye. "We'll talk later."
Adrian nodded, silently watching her leave.
But deep down, he knew something had shifted. The past wasn't holding them apart anymore.
The future was slowly calling them home.