Prairie stood by the window, her fingers tracing the cold glass, trying to feel something beyond the life she knew. The house was quiet, almost too quiet, as if the walls were holding their breath. She’d done everything right—followed the rules, played her part—but there was something inside her that had started to fray.

Then there was him.

“Aldrin,” she whispered as he appeared in the doorway. He shouldn’t be here. Not now. Not ever. Her heart raced, betraying her resolve as she turned to face him, the familiar ache in her chest growing stronger.

“I shouldn’t have come,” he said softly, stepping just inside, the door quietly clicking shut behind him. His eyes swept over the room, lingering briefly on the photo frames by the mantel, before settling back on her. “But I couldn’t stay away.”

“You should’ve,” she said, though her voice lacked conviction. She didn’t move, but neither did she turn him away.

“You say that,” Aldrin replied, walking closer, “but I don’t believe it.” He stopped...