"Morning," you said, voice tighter than you meant. He glanced over. "Morning." A pause. "I had the kitchen make lemon tea." "Your favorite, right?" He blinked, surprised. "Yeah. Thanks." You sat across from him at a small garden table, the tea steaming between you two, and suddenly the silence felt louder than ever. “We used to talk more,” you murmured. Christian smiled faintly. “We used to race bikes in your parents’ driveway. Now we’re getting married.”
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