After everything — the almost-moments, the way Kim lingered near her without realizing it — she thought maybe things were slowly smoothing out. 

Not simple… but closer. Easier.

This morning, Kim had even waited for her in the kitchen, quietly sliding the mug of coffee to her side like it was just instinct. 

He didn’t look at her when he did it, but the gesture stayed with her longer than the warmth of the cup.

So Ray thought… maybe.

Maybe today would finally feel normal.

But then Kim changed.

It happened gradually, like a dimmer switch turning the light down second by second.

First, he avoided her eyes.

Then he stopped standing on her side of the table.

Then he didn’t correct her when she misheard him — he just nodded and moved on.

And by afternoon, he wouldn’t even come near her unless he had to.

Ray tried not to notice.

She really did.

But every time she laughed at something Ethan said, Kim went strangely still.

Every time she walked into a room he was in, he quietly stepped back.

And when she asked him something directly, he answered with short, neutral replies that felt like walls.

It didn’t make sense.

Last night he had looked at her like she was the only person around.

Today it was like he was trying not to look at her at all.

Ray finally found him on the back steps, sitting alone with his phone in his hand but not actually using it. His posture was tight, shoulders higher than usual.

“Hey,” she said softly.

Kim didn’t turn, only nodded — a tiny dip of his chin that felt colder than words.

Ray swallowed. “…Did I do something?”

Kim stiffened — a visible, tiny flinch he probably didn’t realize she saw.

“No,” he said after a long pause. “You didn’t.”

But he still wouldn’t meet her eyes.

That hurt more than any answer could’ve.

She took a step closer, then stopped when he subtly leaned away. Not dramatically — just enough that she couldn’t pretend she imagined it.

Her chest tightened.

“Kim,” she tried again, voice small. “Just tell me if something’s wrong. I… I don’t want to make things weird between us.”

That finally made him look at her.

Only for a second — but it was enough to make her breath hitch.

There was something in his expression… something heavy, conflicted, like he wanted to say a hundred things and couldn’t say even one.

But instead he whispered, “It’s fine. Really,” and stood up as if he couldn’t stay there any longer.

He brushed past her gently — almost carefully — but didn’t stay close enough for her to feel even his sleeve.

Ray blinked hard, her throat tightening unexpectedly.

She wasn’t crying.

Not really.

Just… her eyes stung, and she hated that they did. She hated that something so small — Kim stepping away from her — could break something inside her that she wasn’t even ready to admit she had.

Kim didn’t look back when he walked into the house.

Ray stayed on the steps, hugging her arms around herself as the faintest burn gathered at the corners of her eyes.

Things were not normal.

They were getting worse.

And she didn’t know why.

She didn’t know how to fix it.

And for the first time since Kim arrived… Ray felt genuinely scared that whatever was happening inside him was pulling him further away from her, one quiet step at a time.