The room was quiet.
Sunlight spilled across Agnes's desk, soft and warm, like it didn't know anything had changed.
She sat there, unmoving.
Elbows resting lightly against the wood, fingers loosely intertwined, her gaze drifting somewhere past the window—past the glass, past the yard, past everything in front of her.
She wasn't really looking at anything.
Not the tree outside.Not the sky.Not the slow sway of leaves in the afternoon breeze.
She was thinking about last night.
About the fountain.
About Paul.
His voice had been steady.
Clear.
Like he had already decided long before he said it out loud.
"I like you."
No hesitation.
No room to misunderstand.
And she had…
said it back.
Her chest tightened slightly.
Not from regret.
Just… from the weight of it.
From how real it had felt in that moment.
The way her heart had raced—not in confusion, but in clarity.The way everything had seemed to move forward.
And then—
the kiss.
Her fingers curled slightly against each other.
She could still feel it.
Warm.
Certain.
Real.
And then—
Ethan.
She closed her eyes.
Just for a second.
But it was enough.
He had been standing there.
She hadn't even known how long.
Long enough.
He didn't say anything.
Of course he didn't.
That was Ethan.
He smiled.
Just a little.
Just enough to make it look like it didn't matter.
But she had seen it.
The way his eyes didn't match.
The way something behind them… broke quietly.
Agnes exhaled slowly.
Her gaze dropped, unfocused.
She had run after him.
Her body moved before her thoughts could catch up.
She had called his name.
Once.
Twice.
But then—
she stopped.
Because suddenly…
it didn't feel like she had the right.
She could still see it.
Ethan's back as he walked away.
The dim glow of streetlights stretching across the pavement.
The quiet of the night wrapping around him like it always did.
He didn't turn around.
And in that moment—
just for a second—
a thought had slipped into her mind.
Uninvited.
Unfair.
Too late.
If only I had known.
Agnes opened her eyes again.
The sunlight hadn't changed.
The world hadn't changed.
But something in her had.
Her gaze shifted slightly.
Toward the window.
Toward the tree in the yard.
It stood there the same way it always had.
Still.
Familiar.
Unbothered by time.
And just like that—
the present softened.
Years ago.
The grass had been warmer back then.
Or maybe she just remembered it that way.
She had been spinning.
Laughing, arms stretched out like she was trying to hold onto the air itself.
The world had felt bigger back then.
Simpler.
Paul had been nearby.
Watching her.
Smiling in that easy way of his, like everything she did just… made sense to him.
And Ethan—
He had been there too.
A little quieter.
A little off to the side.
But always close enough.
Agnes slowed her spin, the world settling back into place as she looked toward the courtyard.
Toward the tree.
He was already sitting there.
She didn't hesitate.
She never did.
She walked over and dropped down beside him, close enough that their shoulders almost touched.
Like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Because to her—
it was.
"Hey," she said, a small smile in her voice.
Ethan glanced at her.
"…hey."
There was a brief pause.
Comfortable.
Unspoken.
Agnes shifted slightly, turning toward him.
And then—
without thinking—
she reached for his hand.
Her fingers slipped over his easily.
Warm.
Familiar.
It didn't mean anything.
Not to her.
It was just what she did.
She liked being close.
She liked knowing someone was there.
Ethan went still for a moment.
Just a moment.
Before his hand settled under hers.
Agnes didn't notice.
Or maybe—
she just didn't think there was anything to notice.
She looked ahead, gently swinging their hands between them.
The sunlight filtered through the leaves above, casting soft patterns across the ground.
"Do you think…" she started, her voice light, almost absent-minded, "we'll always be like this?"
Ethan didn't answer right away.
"…like what?" he asked quietly.
She squeezed his hand once.
"Like this."
Another pause.
Longer this time.
Agnes tilted her head slightly, waiting.
Patient.
Certain.
"…yeah," he said.
Soft.
Almost too soft.
Agnes smiled.
Satisfied.
She believed him.
Not because she thought about it.
But because she didn't think she had to.
The wind moved gently through the trees.
The world stayed still.
And neither of them knew—
that this moment…
was already slipping away.