My ex-wife came to see our son. She ended up staying the night. I let her sleep on the couch. After midnight, I heard something I wasn’t supposed to hear.

And something in that look… broke.

“I lost the account,” she said, her voice unsteady. “The big one I told you about last month.”

I nodded slowly.

I remembered.

“They gave it to someone else,” she continued. “After everything I put into it.”

She let out a shaky breath.

“And my boss basically said if I don’t land something bigger this quarter…”

She didn’t finish the sentence.

She didn’t have to.

I leaned against the wall, arms folded.

Listening.

The way I used to.

“I didn’t want to come here tonight,” she said after a pause. “Not like that. I didn’t want it to feel like I needed something.”

Her voice dropped.

“But I did.”

Silence stretched between us.

Not uncomfortable.

Just… honest.

“I miss this house,” she admitted.

My chest tightened slightly.

“I miss… normal things,” she added. “Dinner. Noise. Eke arguing about cartoons.”

A small, sad smile.

“I even miss the way you leave dishes in the sink and insist you’ll ‘get to them later.’”

I let out a quiet breath.

“Still accurate,” I said.

She laughed softly.