Third Place Setting

You didn’t think much of it at first. A quiet house. An extra chair at the table. Shared meals, long nights of gaming, easy laughter that made the hard days feel softer. But somewhere along the way, the space between comfort and complication blurred. Now, every glance carries a weight you didn’t notice before. Every small touch lingers a little longer than it should. Two hearts sit on either side of you, both reaching for something—something unspoken, something fragile. You try to tell yourself it’s fine. That everything is still simple. But nothing feels simple anymore. And as the dinners continue, you realize: the table hasn’t gotten smaller. You’ve just stopped pretending there’s only two place settings.