The hallway was quiet when James stepped out of his apartment, leash in hand, irritation already creeping in.
"Come on," he muttered to the golden retriever tugging him forward. "I told you this is not your house."
The dog, completely unapologetic, stopped in front of Nicole McGraw's door and sat down, tail wagging like it belonged there.
James sighed. "Unbelievable."
He knocked softly, expecting annoyance, maybe sarcasm. Instead, there was no answer.
Just as he turned to leave, he heard it.
A sound so quiet he almost missed it.
Crying.
James froze.
It wasn't loud or dramatic. It was broken. Exhausted. The kind of crying that came from someone who had already cried too much and had nothing left.
He hesitated, every instinct telling him to leave, that this was none of his business. But then her voice followed shaky, tired, barely holding together.
"I don't know how much longer I can do this, Mom…"
James' breath caught.
She was on the phone.
"I wake up every night around three," Nicole continued, her voice cracking. "I just lie there… staring into the dark. I don't cry anymore sometimes,I just feel empty."
James slowly stepped back, leaning against the wall, his chest tightening.
"I gave him everything," she whispered. "And he just… left. Like I didn't matter."
There was a pause, then a shaky breath.
"I don't even recognize myself anymore."
James swallowed hard.
This wasn't the sharp-tongued woman from the bookstore. This wasn't the annoyed neighbor arguing in the hallway.
This was a woman breaking quietly.
"I'm trying, Mom," Nicole said softly. "I really am."
James turned away, heart heavy, quietly pulling the dog back toward his apartment. For the first time since moving there, his luxurious space felt empty. Cold.
That night, sleep didn't come easily.
---
The Morning After
The next morning, James stood outside, breath fogging in the cold air, snow crunching beneath his boots.
The dog sat nearby, tail wagging, watching him.
"This is ridiculous," James muttered, packing snow together.
He didn't know why he was doing it. Maybe guilt. Maybe instinct. Maybe because after hearing her cry, he couldn't just pretend she was fine.
He shaped the snow carefully. A small snowman. Simple. Harmless. A scarf from his coat. Two stones for eyes.
And when he was done, he placed it directly in front of Nicole's door.
No note. No explanation.
Just… something.
James stepped back, suddenly unsure of himself.
---
The Discovery
Nicole opened her door slowly, wrapped in an oversized sweater, eyes tired, hair messy from another sleepless night.
She almost didn't notice it.
Then she stopped.
Her breath hitched.
A snowman.
Right there. At her door.
She blinked, confused, then stepped closer, crouching slightly. Her fingers brushed the scarf, her lips trembling.
"What…?" she whispered.
"Good morning," a voice said gently behind her.
Nicole turned.
James stood a few steps away, hands in his pockets, looking far less arrogant than usual. Almost… nervous.
"You built this?" she asked quietly.
He nodded. "I didn't know what else to do."
Silence stretched between them.
Then Nicole laughed softly one short, surprised sound that turned into tears almost immediately.
"I'm sorry," she said quickly, wiping her cheeks. "I didn't expect"
"It's okay," James interrupted gently. "You don't have to explain."
She looked at him then. Really looked at him.
"You heard me last night," she said, not accusing. Just stating.
"Yes," he admitted. "I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to listen. I just… heard."
Another pause.
"Thank you," Nicole whispered. "For this."
James shrugged lightly. "Everyone deserves something kind after a hard night."
For the first time since the breakup, Nicole felt something unfamiliar bloom in her chest.
Not pain. Not fear.
But warmth.
And as snow fell softly around them, neither of them realized that this small, quiet moment was the beginning of something that would change everything.