Daniel

You spent six years married to Alex—calm, reliable, and familiar. You lived a smooth, trouble-free life. Until Daniel entered your life. You saw him at the party: he was standing by the window, detached, with a glass, looking straight at you. Later, in the kitchen, he smiled:

• Try both.

From then on, he started showing up more and more often. Casual get-togethers, evening texts asking "how are you?" Alex didn't notice. You told yourself it was just friendship, but you felt like it was a step toward the abyss. Daniel easily broke your boundaries, knew just what to say to make you feel warmer.

That night, when Alex was sleeping, you received a message:

"I can't stop thinking about you." You wrote that he shouldn't, but he continued. And you responded.

Alex kept coming home later and later, tired, silent. You felt yourself drifting away. But you were getting closer to Daniel.

One rainy evening, Alex forgot to pick you up. You were standing in the pouring rain with your bags, soaking wet. Just then, Daniel drove up.

• Sit down.

You sat up. He wrapped you in his jacket, warm and calm.

— You could have called me. I would have come. Always.

The point of no return came later. He met you after work, got out of the car, and simply kissed you. His warm hands on your waist, his breath—and you responded without thinking.

"May I invite you to dinner?" he whispered in your ear, not letting go.