I couldn’t stop smiling on the drive home.

It stayed with me longer than it should have. The dinner, the conversation, the way she leaned in slightly when she was listening. And then that moment outside.

The kiss.

Just a quick press to the cheek before she got into the car. Nothing that should have followed me all the way home.

But it did.

I told myself there was no reason for us to meet again. The project was done. Everything that had tied us together professionally had ended clean.

That should have been it.

But she still asked me out. And i said yes.

I let out a quiet breath and leaned back in my seat.

Somewhere along the line I stopped pretending.

i liked her.

Not because of the money or the timing or everything she had done for my mum.

Not even because she showed up when I needed help most.

I just liked her.

Even the things that didn’t make sense.

The coincidences. The timing. The way she always seemed to know things before I said them.

I had noticed all of it.

I just chose not to press.

Because pushing meant risking whatever this was. And for once things were actually going right.

Mum was stable. Recovering. Talking again. Nathan and I weren’t fixed but we were trying, which was more than I expected a week ago.

Work was better than solid. Brian had basically handed me the promotion already.

And now there was her.

I rubbed a hand over my face and laughed quietly to myself.

"Yeah. I was definitely in trouble.

The next day settled into something close to routine.

Hospital first. Always.

She had been moved out of ICU into recovery, which made everything feel lighter even with the machines still humming in the background. I was adjusting her pillows when my phone buzzed.

Nathan.

"I’m in town," he said. "Thought I’d come see her. If that’s okay."

"She’d like that," I said. "She misses you"

"We’re about an hour out."

We !

I didn’t ask.

They arrived just after noon.

Nathan stepped in first, slightly hesitant, like he wasn’t sure what version of this moment he was walking into. Selene followed behind him, one hand resting lightly on Jonathan’s shoulder.

"Mum," I said. "We’ve got visitors."

She turned her head slowly.

Then she saw him.

"Nathan !."

Her voice broke on his name.

He crossed the room without rushing, like if he moved too fast the moment might disappear.

"Mum," he said quietly.

She reached for him and he closed the distance.

"I’m sorry." The words came out rough, like they had been sitting in his chest for years. "I’m so sorry."

She shook her head, her hand tightening around his.

"You’re here now ."That’s enough."

I looked away.

That wasn’t mine to stand inside.

Selene stepped forward after a moment, quiet and respectful of the space.

"Mum, this is Selene," Nathan said, pulling back slightly. "My wife."

Selene smiled. "It’s really nice to meet you."

"And this," Nathan added, resting a hand on the boy’s shoulder, "is Jonathan."

Jonathan gave a small uncertain wave.

"Come here," my mum said. "Let me see you."

He glanced up at his parents then stepped forward.

Kids never carry things the way adults do. Within minutes she was asking him questions, smiling in a way I hadn’t seen in weeks, something inside her visibly loosening.

"You have your father’s eyes," she said.

Nathan let out a quiet breath at that.

I caught it.

The room changed after that. Not completely. Not perfectly. But enough that it stopped feeling like a hospital room for a while.

I stood near the window and watched them and let something steady settle in my chest.

This was what I had been trying to hold together.

Later that evening Nathan and I ended up at a bar not far from the hospital.

Nothing fancy. Dim lights, low music, the dull thud of darts hitting a board somewhere behind us. We got drinks, sat, talked. Easy stuff first.

Work, Life. Eleven years filled in pieces that didn’t feel too heavy to carry.

Then it shifted. It always does.

"What happened to Dad?" Nathan asked.

I took a sip before answering. "ALS."

He went still. "That fast?"

"A month. Maybe a little over."

He exhaled slowly, staring at his drink. "I should’ve been there."

I didn’t respond immediately.

"You weren’t," I said eventually. Not harsh. Just factual.

"I know." His grip tightened around the glass. "I’m sorry."

I nodded once.

That was all I had in me for that conversation.

We moved on.

Darts.

A few bad throws.

Laughs that came easier than I expected.

It wasn’t perfect. But it wasn’t broken either.

Maybe that was enough for now.

By the time I got home it was late.

The kind of late where everything feels quieter than usual, like the world has stepped back slightly.

I dropped my keys on the table and went to the window out of habit. Pulled the curtain back.

And froze.

Someone was across the street. Standing still. Hood up.

Watching.

The moment our eyes met the figure turned and walked away.

Just like that. Gone.

I stood there with my hand still on the curtain.

Then let it fall back into place.

Maybe it was nothing. Someone passing. Someone waiting for a ride. Someone with no connection to me at all.

That made sense.

It should have ended there.

But as I stepped away from the window that steady feeling from earlier shifted into something else.

Something i don’t like.