Evening settled quietly over the nursing home and Lanelle's shift was almost over. Her final patient for the night was Teddy.
She stood beside his bed preparing the CPAP machine while Teddy lay comfortably beneath the blankets, clutching his late wife's framed photograph against his chest like something sacred.
"Did he tell you?" Teddy suddenly asked.
Lanelle looked up. "Who?"
"My son."
She adjusted one of the machine tubes. "Tell me what?"
Teddy sighed heavily.
"His wife asked for a divorce."
Lanelle froze. Her hands paused mid-movement while her eyes slowly lifted toward him. A question lingered there. Shock too.
"Did… he tell you that?" she asked carefully.
"He came here today to tell me." Teddy's voice softened with sadness. "He's completely torn apart. My poor boy."
Lanelle swallowed quietly.
"What happened?" she asked before she could stop herself. "Did they fight?"
"He didn't give details." Teddy shook his head weakly. "I wish I could help him. His mother was always the one who knew how to talk to him properly."
The mention of Tevyn's late mother made the room feel heavier somehow.
Lanelle resumed fixing the machine slowly.
"Just being here for him is already enough, Teddy," she said gently. "Listening helps more than people think."
"Are you sure?"
"Hundred percent."
Teddy smiled faintly.
Lanelle pulled the blanket higher over his chest before helping him wear the CPAP mask properly. Then she leaned down and kissed his forehead lightly.
"Goodnight, Teddy. See you tomorrow."
"Goodnight, Seri."
Lanelle turned the machine on before quietly leaving the room. But unfortunately--The conversation followed her.
...
Yuster was driving them home.
And for the past several minutes, she had apparently been talking to herself. Because Lanelle had heard absolutely nothing. Her body sat inside the passenger seat, but mentally, she was somewhere else entirely.
"Lanelle?" Yuster called.
But no response came.
"Lanelle!"
"Hm?" She blinked rapidly and turned toward Yuster. "Did you say something?"
Yuster stared at her dramatically.
"Oh my God." She tightened her grip on the steering wheel. "Have I been talking to myself this whole time like a crazy person?"
"Sorry."
"What are you thinking about that hard?" Yuster asked, concern replacing the teasing. "Where's your mind at?"
Lanelle hesitated. But there was no point hiding things from Yuster. They told each other everything.
"Tevyn's wife asked for a divorce." Even saying it aloud felt strange.
No reaction was detected on Yuster's face.
"Who told you that?" she asked.
"Teddy."
"Girl." Yuster snorted softly. "Teddy can barely remember what he ate for dinner."
"He's not completely forgetful," Lanelle defended immediately. "He still remembers important things."
Yuster glanced sideways at her.
"I don't think he made it up," Lanelle continued quietly. "I think Tevyn really told him."
"Okay…" Yuster dragged the word carefully. "And why exactly is this bothering you so much? You didn't have anything to do with it."
Lanelle looked down on her lap.
"I know."
"Then?"
Lanelle exhaled slowly.
"I don't even know why it's occupying my mind this much." Her voice dropped lower. "Tevyn and I aren't even dating—"
"But you like him," Yuster interrupted immediately.
Lanelle stayed silent.
"And lately?" Yuster continued. "You two have definitely been flirting."
Lanelle groaned softly and leaned back against the seat. Exactly. That was the problem. It was already difficult enough being secretly in love with a married man. But now? Now his wife wanted a divorce. And somehow that made everything feel uglier.
"Tevyn loves his wife, Lanelle," Yuster said firmly. "Whether they divorce or not, that's still none of your business."
Lanelle flinched slightly at the words.
"You can stress about it all you want," Yuster continued, "but unless you and Tevyn crossed some line recently and his wife found out—"
"What?" Lanelle immediately turned toward her. "No!"
Her reaction came too fast.
"Tevyn and I have never even held hands," she clarified quickly. "Yes, my heart skips a beat whenever I see him, and yes, my day suddenly becomes interesting when he visits, but that's all."
She stared ahead quietly.
"The way I control myself," she added softly, "I honestly don't think he even knows I have feelings for him."
Yuster's expression softened slightly.
"Then why are you this worried?"
Lanelle's fingers twisted together in her lap.
"It hasn't even been a year since his mother died."
"So?"
"He's crushed."
"So?"
"I pity him."
"S—"
"I swear to God," Lanelle warned immediately, pointing a finger at her, "if you say 'so' one more time, you'll regret it."
Yuster physically swallowed the word.
"Okay. Fine."
A few seconds of silence passed. Then she sighed.
"If it's pity, let it stay pity," she said more gently this time. "And unless Tevyn tells you about the divorce himself, don't bring it up. Pretend you heard nothing."
"I know."
Yuster shook her head with a quiet scoff.
"What?" Lanelle asked suspiciously.
"It's just…" Yuster laughed under her breath. "I don't know. The heart really wants what it wants."
Lanelle looked out the windshield silently.
"You're surrounded by attractive single men," Yuster continued. "At work. Back in town. Everywhere." She glanced sideways at her friend. "So how exactly did you manage to fall for a married man like you don't understand how complicated that is?"
Lanelle rested her head against the window.
"It just happened."
Yuster was quiet for a moment.
Then finally—
"If his wife actually divorces him…would you date him?"
Lanelle didn't answer. Because the truth was already kneading her insides like fresh dough. That terrified her.
...
It was Eris's first night in her new home. And everything sounded different.
Back in the city, nights were filled with car horns, revving engines, distant sirens, and people yelling somewhere for no reason at all.
But here?
Instead of honking cars, she heard bicycle bells. Instead of roaring traffic, there was laughter drifting through the streets. And silence itself wasn't truly silent. Beyond her windows came the smooth rhythm of ocean waves meeting the shore. The sound was strangely calming.
Eris sat cross-legged on the couch and switched her mother's voice call into a video call.
Her mother's face appeared immediately.
"Are you settled in?" she asked.
"Mostly." Eris glanced toward the unopened boxes stacked near the wall. "I'll finish unpacking tomorrow."
She walked toward the fridge and opened it. Apart from the box of chocolates, it was basically empty.
"And I seriously need to go to the market tomorrow or I'm going to starve."
Her mother laughed softly. "How's the town?"
"It's…" Eris paused. "It's really nice," she admitted. "Everyone's been kind so far, and the town itself is beautiful."
"That's good."
"Some people probably recognized me," Eris continued, "but nobody approached me. Nobody stared too much either."
And that still amazed her.
"It's honestly great here," she said while leaning against the kitchen counter. "The people, the food, the place…" Her eyes brightened slightly. "Oh, and I got a job."
Her mother looked genuinely surprised. "You what?"
Eris laughed.
"What job?" her mother continued. "I thought you were taking a break from social media."
"I am. It's not related to that." Eris smiled proudly. "Apparently, the town mayor needed an assistant."
"And he hired you?"
"Apparently."
She threw herself dramatically onto the couch.
"What exactly are you going to be doing?" her mother asked suspiciously.
"I honestly have no idea." Eris shrugged. "Probably organizing files, answering calls, handling paperwork… normal things."
The word normal felt oddly satisfying.
Her mother smiled softly through the screen.
"Well, I'm happy for you."
Something warm settled in Eris's chest.
"I hope you get along with everyone there."
"I hope so too." Eris tucked one leg beneath herself comfortably. "And once I know the town properly, you should come visit. I'll show you around."
"I'd love that, honey."
Her mother yawned loudly afterward.
"Mama needs to sleep now. Call me every day, okay?"
"I will." Eris smiled softly. "Night, Mommy."
"Night, baby."
The call ended.
For a moment, the apartment became quiet again.
Eris had barely gotten comfortable on the couch and turned the television on when somebody knocked on the door. She groaned dramatically before dragging herself up.
When she opened the door—Deb stood there smiling brightly with a plate of cookies in her hands.
"Hello again!"
Eris instantly laughed.
"This," Deb announced proudly while lifting the plate slightly, "is my version of a welcome basket."
Eris accepted the cookies immediately.
"Your version is exactly my type."
"I knew we'd get along."
"Come in."
Deb stepped inside while Eris searched for somewhere to place the cookies. Meanwhile, Deb quietly looked around the apartment. And immediately looked impressed.
The furniture was elegant and expensive without trying too hard. Different shades of black decorated the walls and furniture, giving the apartment a dark but luxurious personality.
Everything looked carefully chosen.
"I love what you did with the place," Deb admitted.
"Thanks." Eris smiled. "I tried."
"You tried successfully."
Deb wandered toward the kitchen where Eris was currently opening random cabinets.
"What are you looking for?"
"A tray or container for the cookies." Eris glanced back at her. "You're going to want your plate back eventually, right?"
"Nope. It's yours."
"Oh."
Eris smiled warmly.
"Thank you then."
She picked up one cookie and took a bite. Then immediately she stopped moving.
Her eyes widened.
"Oh my God. These are so good."
Eris took another bite. Then another. The cookie disappeared within seconds.
"I can always bake more if you want." Deb told her.
"I'll definitely remember that."
A thought that had found shelter withing Eris's mind came alive almost suddenly. She remembered something.
Her eyes narrowed playfully.
"So…" she began carefully, "Duante, huh?"
Deb looked lost. "Duante?"
"The chef boyfriend."
There was a brief silence before Deb exploded into laughter. It was truly amusing hearing such a thought from Eris.
"Oh my God." She held her stomach. "Duante?"
Eris blinked. "You're not dating him?"
"No!" Deb laughed harder. "I'm dating Meshack."
Eris stared at her in complete confusion.
"Meshack?" she repeated. "The one who took our order?"
"Yes!"
"What?"
Deb continued laughing while Eris looked genuinely betrayed by her own instincts.
"Why would you think it's Duante?" Deb asked.
Eris pointed accusingly.
"Because it was obvious."
"No, it wasn't."
"Yes, it was," Eris insisted. "That man looked at you like the rest of us didn't even exist."
Deb scoffed.
"You definitely weren't paying attention properly."
"Well…" Eris lifted both hands in surrender. "Maybe. But I know what a man in love looks like."
She grabbed another cookie.
"And Duante had that exact look on his face every time he looked at you."
The room quieted slightly after that.
"Or maybe I'm wrong," Eris added casually before taking another bite.
"Yeah," Deb answered automatically.
But internally—Something shifted. A question mark quietly appeared in her mind.
Duante… loved her?
Impossible. Right? She had known him for years. Long before Meshack. And yet she had never once considered that possibility.
To her, Duante had simply been kind and protective. And she never interpreted his behavior as romantic. Never questioned why he paid attention to details nobody else noticed. And now, unfortunately, Eris's careless observation had planted something dangerous.
A thought.
So there Deb stood, in the middle of Eris's kitchen, with two voices fighting inside her head.
The loud one said: Impossible.
But the quieter voice—The dangerous one—Whispered softly:
What if it's true?
***