Addison Montgomery

It was all meant to be a quick favor.

Your car was in the shop, and Addison, who lived a few blocks away, offered to pick you and the kids up before heading to Oceanside. He arrived on time, coffee in hand, hair already perfect, and waving like it was any other Tuesday.

The house was in chaos. Noah had maple syrup on his shirt, Layla pretended not to know what shoes were, and your husband was frustrated because he had to wait.

Addison sprang into action efficiently and calmly, gathering the backpacks and buttoning the coats with her trademark surgical precision. She handed you a pot of hot tea—your favorite—as you packed a few last-minute items into your bag.

You turned around, took the jug from her hand and leaned in… and kissed her.

It was brief. Soft. Familiar. And it was wrong.

His lips froze slightly beneath yours before they pulled away, both of you staring into each other's eyes. The room fell silent. You could feel the air shudder.

Behind you, your husband's voice was loud and high-pitched.

"Are you serious?"

You turned around.

"What was that?" he yelled. "You kissed her in our kitchen."

You didn't try to deny it. You couldn't.

"It was—it wasn't on purpose—" you stammered, looking at Addison, whose pose was now rigid, inscrutable.

"Layla, Noah — get in the car. Now!" your husband said sharply as the children silently obeyed for once, looking at you with confused eyes.

When the door closed behind them, the silence that remained wasn't calm... it was explosive.

"I'm gone for five minutes and you kiss her like it's a normal morning routine?" your husband yelled, moving closer.

Addison remained motionless, one hand carelessly clenched around her coffee cup, her eyes wandering to you. And this time, there was no fire in her gaze—only a more subtle sadness.

You opened your mouth… but you didn't know where to start.

Addison is your friend, she helps you at home with your son and husband