Monday morning rose with a soft light, already infused with the city's rhythm. Jessica stood in front of the mirror, adjusting a curl in her hair, while Gregory finished his coffee, still in his light robe, ready to head to the clinic. The morning silence in their apartment was punctuated by small, coordinated gestures—almost choreographed. They had lived together long enough for everything to flow: the shared coffee, the glances exchanged without words, the quick kisses before heading off in separate directions.
"Will you grab something on the way back tonight?" Gregory asked, grabbing his keys.
"Maybe. Otherwise, we can order in. Depends who gets home first."
"Sounds good," he said, already at the door.
Jessica stayed alone for a moment, taking a deep breath. The previous evening came back to her: the warmth of the wine, the shared laughter, Angie—so gentle, so present, and sometimes… almost too quiet. Jessica couldn't quite tell if the unease she'd felt was real, or just in her head.
---
Gregory unlocked the door to his office with calm efficiency. A well-known physical therapist in the neighborhood, he handled appointments one after the other, always keeping space for his loyal patients. But this morning, between manipulations and rehab exercises, his mind wandered.
He recalled Angie, slouched on the couch, laughing at a childhood memory with Jessica. He had never allowed himself even the slightest inappropriate thought about her. But the fondness he had always felt for her—as a close friend of the couple—had begun to shift. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe the ambiance. Maybe… something else. He didn't know yet.
---
Angie, on her side, entered the open space of her design agency, glasses on, headphones in place. A graphic designer for a few years now, she was used to drowning herself in work to quiet down invasive thoughts. But today, focus was hard to come by. The image of Jessica and Gregory, together in their bubble, kept coming back.
She smiled as usual, but felt hollow inside. Like a guest in their world. She knew something in her was shifting—becoming heavier, more tangled. She loved Jessica. Maybe a little too much. And Gregory… he embodied everything she had never managed to find in a man: a calming steadiness, understated humor, sincere attention.
She sighed and opened her current project: a campaign brochure for a natural skincare brand. But her thoughts were far away.
---
During lunch break, Jessica ate with two colleagues at a small café near the office. They talked about vacations, work, and tiredness. But in the back of her mind, she kept thinking of Angie's hand brushing against hers, that fleeting look she hadn't dared to question.
She knew Angie had been feeling lonely. She could sense it, even if her friend never said much. Jessica herself felt guilty for having such stability, such happiness. And yet… part of her found in Angie something she hadn't explored before: a depth, a vulnerability that was strangely alluring.
She shook off the thought with a bite of her salad.
---
Gregory, meanwhile, was seeing a teenage patient with a sports injury. But in between questions about a sore knee, his mind returned to Angie's expression as she had said she had to head home. A kind of melancholy behind the smile. He knew she wasn't in a relationship—Jessica had told him. He also knew that sometimes, Angie isolated herself more than she should.
He would never have said it out loud, but a part of him wanted her to come over more often. To be part of their daily lives. As if her presence filled something he couldn't quite define.
---
That evening, Angie turned down an invitation from her coworkers to grab a drink. She went home, alone—as she so often did. She sat on her couch, a mug of herbal tea in her hands. She thought of Jessica. Of Gregory. Of that warm home. And of her own solitude, increasingly hard to ignore.
She knew the trio they had formed—even if only occasionally—had become a kind of anchor for her. A bubble outside of time. And maybe, inside that bubble, she was searching for something more.
But what, exactly?