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Your ex-husband, Thomas, insisted on watching your six-year-old daughter Hope while you go the US to attend a conference for writers. Reluctantly, you agreed, and here you were at his home.

"Daddy!" your daughter ran up to your lanky ex-husband, crawling to his neck.

"Hey, princess," he smiled – genuinely, too.

Then he saw you.

And he gave you that same fake smile, full of unsaid words and feelings.

"Hello, Y/N." he reached out to hug you awkwardly. It was less uncomfortable since Hope was between you both, and he patted your back friendlily.

"Hi, Thomas." You smiled, reaching for Hope's bag. "Here's her bag. I packed up three extra sets of clothes and some snacks in case she gets hungry,"

Thomas took the pink backpack from you, chuckling. "Y/N, she has clothes here, and I have a kitchen."

You widened your eyes slightly, before nodding sheepishly. "Riiight. Well, off I go, then." You leaned in to kiss Hope on the cheek, then Thomas spoke up.

"How about you stay for dinner?" he suggested shyly, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.

"Yeah, mommy, stay!" Hope pouted.

"For a bit, my flight is in three hours." You complied.

"I can drive you." Thomas offered. "We can get food on the road."

Thomas was acting odd. He'd always act stiff when you were around, and he was always almost evidently waiting for you to leave already.

But today, he wanted to spend time with you.

Despite yourself, you nodded, turning to Hope. "Honey, why don't you go unpack some of your things? Freshen up before we leave?"

Hope looked at her father. At his nod of agreement, Hope hopped off to her bedroom – a room Thomas had the people build especially for her when you were still married.

"What's up with you today?" you demanded, following Thomas to the kitchen.

He set down two glasses and a pitcher of iced tea, sighing. "I just want to seeboth my girls again, okay, Y/N? Just for tonight. For Hope."

Did he just call you his girl?

If you were honest with yourself, you probably hoped he wanted you to stay because he wanted you, daughter or no daughter. But you nodded.

I mean, you wouldn't be forced to befriend him if Hope didn't come into the picture, right?

Handing you your glass of tea, an awkward silence followed.

"Daddy, I want one too!" your daughter stood in the hallway, eyeing you both happily, probably overjoyed at the rare sight of her two parents together.

"You won't be able to sleep tonight, darling, how about milk?" he offered. At your daughter's nod, he reached for a glass and the carton.

"Do you have cookies, too?" she asked.

"Hope," you interrupted, a warning tone wavering in your voice.

"It's alright, love, really," he told you. And he was just as shocked as you were.

He hadn't called you love since – well – forever.

Not since six years.

"Just a few, it'll ruin her appetite." You compromised. Thomas nodded.

Holding back a smile at the sweet exchange between father and daughter, you decided to clean the glasses up and put them in the sink. You began to reach for the sponge when Thomas stopped you.

"That's unnecessary... Y/N," he almost called you that again. "I'll do it when I get home."

"Nonsense, they're just glasses, Thomas." With that, you set to work.

More strange behavior followed. Thomas insisted on you riding next to him with Hope on your lap. The last time you rode next to him in a car was when you were on your way to sign your divorce papers.

Thomas being an actor, paparazzi followed you both around. Bitterness overtook you further then; his career was practically the reason why you decided to end things.

Somehow, Thomas never noticed when you stared at him while he was driving. So during the one-hour drive to McDonald's, you took the time to assess what changed.

His jaw line is more pronounced, his laugh lines a little more prominent. He still ran his fingers through his hair and sighed whenever he was in deep thought. Only Hope kept the aura lively, chatting to Thomas about her friends in school.

"Mommy has a friend too, Daddy, he's my friend's daddy and he said he really likes Mommy," Hope blabbered on. You sunk in your seat.

Bryce Masen was a single parent who took a liking to you, and boy, was he vocal about it. He insisted on courting you, but you gave him a firm no before he settled for friendship.

Thomas glanced at you briefly. "Really?" his eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"He's just a friend," you clarified. "Mommy doesn't like anyone," it was more towards Thomas, but Hope nodded.

"You mean like a crush, Mommy?" Hope asked innocently, and Thomas' head snapped to her direction.

"Since when did you know what a crush is?" he demanded, occasionally looking at her to indicate he's waiting for an answer.

"One of my friends said he crushed on me, then Mommy told me it means you want to be boyfriend and girlfriend with someone." She explained.

"No crushes," he stated firmly. "not until you're thirty."

You held back an "aww", and Hope only laughed.

"I'm not joking," Thomas muttered so softly only you could hear.

"Thomas," you chastised. He only looked at you smugly.

"Here we are!" he turned to the drive-thru.

He spoke to the intercom and relayed your order, knowing it by heart.

Although it was a little thing, you found it very endearing.

–

"Say goodbye to Mummy, Hope." Thomas put her in your arms, and she nuzzled her nose in the crook of your neck.

"Don't go, Mommy," she whined.

"I'll come back in a few days, darling," you promised, kissing her hair.

"Promise?" she pulled away, meeting your eyes. At your nod, she smiled. "Can me, you, and Daddy go to the beach?"

"I'm sure Daddy can bring you there while I'm gone, sweetie."

"But I want you to be there, too!" she pouted.

"Of course we'll wait for Mummy," Thomas piped up.

What is this man high on?

"Alright then!" you said breathily. "We'll go to the beach when I get back."

"I'm sleepy," Hope yawned, climbing up Thomas' car, leaving you two standing awkwardly.

"You're acting really weird, Thomas, you have to stop before Hope-"

"I miss you, alright?" Thomas blurted out. "I want to have an actual friendshipwith you. Not a friendship where you want to get out of my bloody house as soon as you can."

You sighed. "Fine." You forced a smile. "I'll see you when I get back, then."

"I'm really taking you girls to the beach," Thomas remarked.

Your lips tightening to a thin line, you nodded. "That would be nice."

Taking you both by surprise, he leaned in to wrap you in his embrace.

He still smelled the same. Felt the same way.

"Travel safely. Message me when you land." He whispered in your ear.

He pulled away from the embrace, but not completely. His face lingered close to yours, eyes shut, waiting for you to react to your unusual closeness.

You didn't react.

He exhaled through his nose, pulling away. "I'm sorry." He muttered.

You nodded. "Goodbye, Thomas."

He looked heartbroken that you hadn't responded to the kiss. He tried to keep a friendly façade, but you knew him. You always will.

With that in mind, you tiptoed to peck him on the lips before hurrying away, not wanting to deal with the aftermath.

What just happened?