Golden hour glow and favorite coffee cup - doesn’t get much better than this, does it? Spent the afternoon wandering through the city, lost in thought (and pretty sure we spotted our favorite street ...

Here goes…

“There,” she says, almost without thinking – “there, with the wine glass.” It’s been five years since that night, hasn't it? Five years of not quite admitting to ourselves it was all a mess. These wool trousers, always a little too much for us - a bit of defiant comfort against the chill of everything else, don’t you think? They weren't so bad when he was around, these tweeds, less daunting than feeling like an outsider even in your own skin. Now there’s just the faint scent of cedar and dust motes dancing in the afternoon light—and maybe a trace of his cologne still clinging to the shawl.

We didn’t say anything dramatic, did we? Just a slight turn of the head when the waiter brought the bill – a silent agreement then about which one of us should pay, another small victory in the quiet battle we waged every day. But those silences, aren’t they? Always felt heavier than they needed to. Like a held breath after a perfectly timed joke, only everyone else thought it was funny.

Your eyes were curious, though. Not demanding, not yet. More like…recognition. A flicker of recognition when the cat brushed past, batting playfully at the fringe of the scarf. Did you notice the way your fingerschesred, ever so slightly, during last week's dinner? It wasn’–t obvious, of course. We wouldn't want to admit that. Too many layers to peel back, too much risk of getting burned.

Now, look again. This hesitant smile, the curve of the lip, the hint of something wistful behind the gaze. Didn't need words then, do we? Do you remember the sound of them?”

What do you think? How does it feel? Let us know if you would like us to tweak it! 🎨 ✨

Would you like us to write more about the setting, perhaps, or delve deeper into the specifics of the relationship?