The door clicks shut behind them.
Soft. Controlled.
It doesn't echo, but it settles into the room like sothing deliberate—like a boundary being drawn.
Dayo doesn't move right away.
He stands just inside, one hand still near the door, like he hasn't fully decided to step into the mont yet. The air feels different here. Quieter than outside. Not empty—just contained. Like everything in the room is waiting for them to decide what this is.
Luna is already seated.
Back straight, hands resting together loosely in her lap. Not tense, not relaxed either. Just… held. Like she's aware of every part of herself and where it is.
He notices that first.
The way she carries herself now.
There's sothing softer about her edges, but sothing firr underneath. Not fragile. Not uncertain. Just… settled in a way he doesn't rember.
Or maybe he does.
Maybe he just forgot what it looked like when she wasn't around him.
He exhales quietly and walks in properly this ti.
Two steps. Three.
Then he pulls out the chair opposite her and sits.
Not too close. Not too far.
Just enough distance to keep things from feeling imdiate.
For a while, neither of them says anything.
Their eyes et, drift, return again. Not avoiding. Not confronting either. Just adjusting to the fact that this is real.
Up close.
After everything.
Luna speaks first.
"...How have you been?"
Her voice is even. Not soft, not cold. Just controlled.
Dayo leans forward slightly, resting his forearms on his thighs, fingers loosely laced together.
"Busy," he says.
A small pause.
"Working."
That's all.
No extra weight. No explanation.
Just sothing functional enough to pass as an answer.
Luna nods once.
She expected that.
"Yeah," she says quietly. "I figured."
Another pause settles in.
This one doesn't stretch awkwardly—it just sits. Like both of them are letting the mont breathe without rushing to fill it.
Dayo shifts slightly in his seat, leaning back this ti, one arm resting against the side of the chair.
"You've been… off the radar," he says.
"On purpose."
He glances at her, a faint lift at the corner of his mouth that doesn't fully beco a smile.
"That bad?"
She lets out a small breath through her nose.
"Not bad. Just… loud. And I got tired of it."
He nods slowly.
"That makes sense."
He pauses, then adds, "You always handled it better than most people."
"Handling sothing and wanting it aren't the sa."
He huffs quietly. Not quite a laugh.
"Yeah. I learned that late."
There's sothing in that line that could go sowhere deeper.
It doesn't.
They both let it pass.
The conversation drifts into safer ground.
His races. Briefly.
She ntions seeing clips. Not everything. Just enough to show she's aware.
He shrugs it off like it's routine. Like it doesn't matter.
Then her work.
She keeps it light. Talks about stepping back, doing things differently, keeping things smaller.
No details that invite questions.
No openings.
They're both doing it.
Talking without saying anything.
Dayo's eyes shift without him realizing it at first.
To the side of her chair.
There's a bag there.
Not large. Not styled like sothing ant to be seen. Just practical. Zipped halfway, the top slightly open.
Sothing soft peeks out.
Fabric.
Folded.
Light-colored.
His gaze lingers a second too long before he pulls it back.
But the thought stays.
Quiet.
Then louder.
He shifts again, leaning forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees.
"You've been… good?" he asks.
It sounds like a simple check-in.
It isn't.
Luna hears the difference.
She takes a mont before answering.
"I've been okay."
Not a full answer.
But not a lie.
He nods once.
His eyes flick back to the bag.
Then away again.
Then back.
He tries not to make it obvious.
He's not sure why it's bothering him.
Or maybe he knows exactly why.
"She's… how old?" he asks suddenly.
The question slips out without a proper lead-in.
Luna stills, just slightly.
Not enough for soone else to notice.
Enough for him to feel.
"Few months," she says.
Her voice doesn't change.
Doesn't tighten.
Just steady.
Dayo nods again, slower this ti.
"Okay."
He leans back, dragging a hand across his jaw, fingers pressing lightly as if grounding himself.
The room feels smaller now.
Quieter.
Like sothing has stepped into it without being invited.
He looks at her again.
Studies her face this ti.
Not just seeing—reading.
Looking for sothing.
Anything.
"You're handling that alone?" he asks.
She holds his gaze.
"I'm managing."
Another careful answer.
Another closed door.
He nods again.
"Yeah."
Silence stretches.
Not uncomfortable.
But not neutral either.
There's sothing building now.
Sothing neither of them is naming.
Dayo inhales slowly.
Lets it out.
His fingers tap once against his knee before going still again.
"I heard you…" he starts.
Then stops.
The words hang there.
Unfinished.
Luna's eyes lift to his imdiately.
She knows.
Of course she does.
Her body reacts before she can stop it—just a slight shift in her shoulders, a tightening in her hands.
He notices.
That's what makes it harder to continue.
He exhales through his nose, jaw tightening for a brief second before relaxing again.
He tries again.
"The child," he says, voice lower now. More deliberate. "She's yours?"
It lands between them.
Clean.
But not complete.
Luna doesn't look away.
Doesn't hesitate.
"Yes."
One word.
Steady.
True.
That's all she gives him.
Dayo nods once.
Sothing shifts inside him again.
Subtle.
But heavier this ti.
He leans back, resting into the chair, eyes dropping for a mont before returning to her.
"And the father?"
There it is.
Not sharp.
Not aggressive.
But not casual either.
Luna feels it settle in her chest.
This was always coming.
She knew it the mont he walked into the room.
Maybe even before that.
Her fingers press lightly against each other.
She keeps her face neutral.
"Why?" she asks.
Not defensive.
Not challenging.
Just… redirecting.
Dayo tilts his head slightly.
"Just asking," he says. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."
He gives her the space.
The exit.
And she takes it.
"It's not sothing I talk about."
Her voice is calm.
Controlled.
Closed.
He watches her.
Long enough to understand what that ans.
Long enough to understand that pushing further right now won't give him anything.
So he nods.
"Alright."
And just like that—
He lets it go.
Outwardly.
But inside, the answer starts forming anyway.
She moved on.
Of course she did.
Ti passed.
Things changed.
That's how it works.
The thought sits in his chest, heavier than it should be, but not unexpected.
Not shocking.
Just… there.
Luna watches him process it.
She sees the shift.
The quiet conclusion he's reaching.
And she says nothing.
Because correcting it would an opening sothing she's not ready to open.
Not here.
Not like this.
The silence that follows is thicker now.
Full.
Dayo exhales quietly, running a hand over the back of his neck.
"You're good, though?" he asks again.
It sounds similar to before.
It isn't.
There's sothing under it now.
Sothing that slipped through.
Luna hears it.
Feels it.
She nods.
"I'm okay."
He studies her face again.
Longer this ti.
Like he's trying to decide if that answer is enough.
Then he nods once.
"Good."
Another pause.
Then she shifts slightly in her seat.
"You?" she asks. "You look… the sa."
He lets out a quiet breath, almost a smile.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Still holding everything in."
That lands.
He doesn't respond imdiately.
Just looks at her.
Then glances away, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.
"So habits stick."
"So don't."
He looks back at her.
That one sits between them longer than the rest.
Then he shakes his head slightly, like he's brushing sothing off.
"It's not the sa," he says under his breath.
The words co out before he decides to say them.
Before he filters them.
They just… slip.
Luna stills.
Her fingers tighten again in her lap.
She heard that.
Clearly.
She doesn't respond to it.
Doesn't expose it.
But sothing in her chest shifts.
Deep.
Dayo clears his throat lightly, shifting in his seat again.
"Why did you co?" he asks.
Direct.
Finally.
Luna's breath catches—just slightly.
This is it.
The real question.
The one everything has been circling.
She looks at him.
Really looks.
Her mind moves faster than her expression.
If she says it—
Everything changes.
If she doesn't—
Everything stays exactly where it is.
Her lips part slightly.
Then close.
She exhales slowly.
"I wanted to see you," she says.
It's true.
Just not complete.
Dayo holds her gaze.
Sothing flickers behind his eyes.
He nods once.
"Okay."
He doesn't push.
Doesn't question it.
But he hears what's missing.
Even if he doesn't know what it is.
Silence settles again.
Heavy.
Full.
Unresolved.
Then slowly, Luna shifts.
Just enough to signal sothing is ending.
Or changing.
Dayo notices.
He stands.
She stands a second later.
Now they're closer.
The space between them feels different like this.
Smaller.
More real.
For a mont, neither of them moves.
Just standing there.
Everything unsaid still sitting between them.
Alive.
Dayo exhales quietly.
"I'm around," he says. "For a bit."
Not an invitation.
Not clearly.
But not nothing.
Luna nods.
"Okay."
Another pause.
Short.
But heavy.
Then she turns.
Not abruptly.
Just enough.
He watches her as she moves toward the door.
Hand on the handle.
A slight hesitation.
Like she might turn back.
She doesn't.
The door opens.
Light shifts.
Then she steps out.
And she's gone.
Dayo stands there a second longer.
Then another.
His jaw tightens slightly as he exhales, running a hand over the back of his neck.
His eyes drift to the chair she sat in.
Then to the space where the bag had been.
Then back to the door.
Sothing doesn't sit right.
He doesn't know what.
But he feels it.
And it doesn't go away.
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