Lately, the only thing that's been helping is the late-night swims. As soon as I step outside, the cool air brushes against my skin—a stark contrast to the day's heat and my own inner turmoil. The pool water gleams under the moonlight, still and inviting, as if ready to absorb all the shit weighing me down.

I slip into the water, and the immediate chill jolts through me, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts. Each stroke is deliberate, each kick pushing away the noise in my head. The water cradles me, almost forgiving, offering a brief escape. With every lap, the tightness in my chest loosens, the simmering anger dissipates. Time becomes fluid until I'm floating on my back, gazing up at the stars.

I let myself sink until the water muffles everything but my heartbeat. When my lungs start to burn, I push up, breaking the surface with a gasp. That's when I see her—a silhouette in the doorway I'd know anywhere.

The sight of her hits harder than the need for air.

I’m suddenly hyper aware of every inch between us. The music drifts through the speakers—Oasis, one of her favorites—and for a second, I'm thrown back to summers ago when this pool was our sanctuary, not some kind of battleground.

My chest tightens, the burn not from the swim but from the piercing intensity of her eyes on me. How can she look at me like that—like I still mean something to her—after all my fuck-ups?

Her eyes hold a mix of concern and something unspoken—a depth that scares the shit out of me because I don't know if I deserve it. The guilt gnaws at me, sharp and heavy, because if anyone knows the worst parts of me, it's Nora. Yet here she is, her presence a silent question I'm not sure I have the right to answer. I watch her swallow hard, like she's been caught in the act.

"I didn't know anyone was home," she murmurs, voice barely carrying over the gentle splash of water.

"Everyone's still out."

She nods, a hint of relief in her expression. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"It's your house too now," I say, trying to ignore how the moonlight catches in her hair. "You're back early."

"Wasn't feeling it tonight," she admits, her eyes shadowed with something that looks a lot like sadness.

"Why not?"

"Why do you care?" she fires back, her tone sharper than expected.

I can't help but smirk as she tries to pretend like she's not affected by me just as much as I am by her. "I told you I like to know things."

"I told you not to waste your time."

She steps closer to the pool, slipping off her shoes to dangle her feet in the water. The dim pool lights cast shadows across her face, revealing the troubled look in her eyes.