The house felt different the next day.
Not louder.
Not emptier.
Just… alert.
Like it knew something was coming.
Lily noticed it first in the small things.
The way the floor creaked a little louder.
The way the clock ticked like it was impatient.
Mark's trip was tomorrow.
Just one more day.
She stood in the kitchen holding a plate she had already cleaned. Didn't put it away. Didn't move.
Why does one day feel heavier than months?
She didn't know.
She just knew it did.
Ethan came downstairs later than usual.
He almost turned back when he saw Lily there. Old instinct. Avoid. Give space.
But space hadn't helped lately.
"Morning," he said.
"Morning," she replied.
Same pause. But now it felt thinner. Like it could tear.
"You didn't sleep," he said.
She didn't deny it. "Neither did you."
He gave a small smile. "Guess not."
They stood there, neither sitting down. Like sitting would make things too real.
"Mark leaves tomorrow," Lily said.
"I know."
Three words. Heavy ones.
"And tonight…" she continued, then stopped.
Ethan waited. Didn't push.
"Tonight is the last normal night," she finished.
Normal.
The word sounded strange in her mouth.
They spent the day together without planning to.
Not talking much. Just… existing in the same space.
Ethan worked from home. Lily moved around the house. Sometimes they crossed paths. Sometimes they didn't.
Every time they did, something unsaid passed between them.
By evening, the tension had settled deep. Quiet. Solid.
Mark came home late. Bags half-packed already.
"Early flight tomorrow," he said, yawning. "I'll probably be gone before you wake up."
Lily nodded. "Okay."
Ethan said nothing.
Dinner was short. Ordinary. Too ordinary.
Mark talked about schedules, hotels, delays. Lily listened. Ethan stared at his plate.
This was the last night before everything became… something else.
After dinner, Mark went to bed early.
The house fell silent.
Again.
Ethan stood in the hallway, unsure where to go. Lily was in the living room, sitting on the couch, hands folded, eyes on nothing.
"You don't have to sit alone," he said softly.
She looked up. "I know."
A pause.
"Do you want company?" he asked.
She hesitated. Just a second too long.
"Yes," she said.
He sat on the opposite end of the couch. Distance. Chosen. But fragile.
"This feels like waiting for a storm," Lily said.
Ethan nodded. "Yeah. One you can't see yet."
She hugged a pillow to her chest. "I hate that I don't know what tomorrow makes us."
He looked at her. "It doesn't have to make us anything."
She laughed quietly. "You don't believe that."
He didn't.
The rain started around midnight.
Not heavy. Just steady. Persistent.
Lily glanced toward the window. "Of course."
Ethan smiled faintly. "Timing's cruel like that."
They listened to the rain for a while. No talking. Just the sound of it filling the space.
Then Lily spoke.
"Ethan… do you ever wish you didn't care?"
He answered without thinking. "Sometimes."
She nodded. "Me too."
Another pause.
"But then," he added, "I think not caring would feel worse."
She looked at him then. Really looked.
"That's the problem," she said. "I don't want to stop caring."
He swallowed.
The lights flickered. Stayed on. Flickered again.
Lily sighed. "Don't do this."
Ethan stood up. "I'll grab candles. Just in case."
When he came back, she was standing now, pacing slowly.
"This is stupid," she muttered.
"What is?" he asked.
"This tension. This waiting. This pretending we're fine."
He placed the candles on the table. Didn't light them.
"We're not pretending anymore," he said gently. "We're just… holding back."
She stopped pacing.
"And how long can people hold back before it turns into regret?" she asked.
He didn't answer.
Because he didn't know.
They stood facing each other now. Closer than before. Not touching.
"I'm scared," Lily said.
"Me too."
"I'm scared that tomorrow changes nothing," she continued.
"And I'm scared that it changes everything."
Ethan breathed out slowly. "Yeah."
Her voice softened. "Say something that makes this easier."
He shook his head slightly. "If I did, I'd be lying."
She almost smiled at that.
Almost.
The rain grew louder.
Lily hugged her arms around herself. Not cold. Just… exposed.
Without thinking, Ethan took one step forward.
Stopped.
She noticed.
"That's the line," she said quietly.
"I know."
Neither moved.
Seconds passed. Maybe minutes.
"Do you ever feel like," Lily whispered,
"we're already crossing it… just slower?"
His chest tightened. "Yes."
That was the most dangerous answer he could've given.
Finally, Lily stepped back.
"I need to go to bed," she said.
Ethan nodded. "Yeah. Me too."
They walked toward the hallway together. Side by side. Not touching.
At her door, Lily stopped.
"If tomorrow feels different," she said, "promise me something."
"What?"
"That we won't lie. Not again."
He met her eyes. "I promise."
She nodded once. Then went inside.
Ethan stood there a moment longer. Listening to the rain. To his own breathing.
That night, the house didn't sleep.
Neither did they.
Because tomorrow wasn't just a day.
It was a doorway.
And neither of them knew
who they'd be
once they stepped through it.
End of Chapter 13