Sunday mornings always had a special flavor in Jessica and Gregory's home. It was the only day they truly took their time. No alarms. No rushing. Just slightly open shutters, the soft song of birds, and the smell of freshly ground coffee.
Gregory walked out of the bedroom, shirtless and still a little groggy. His brown hair tousled, he headed straight to the kitchen. Jessica was already up, wearing her midnight-blue satin robe, her bare feet on the cool tiles.
"Morning, you," she said with a smile, holding a cup in her hand.
He approached and kissed her gently on the forehead, then poured himself a coffee.
"Did you sleep well?"
"Like a baby. You?"
"Same. I missed you in bed this morning—you were already up."
"I wanted some quiet. And… Angie texted me. She sent an old picture of us from middle school. Can you believe we've known each other for almost twenty years?"
Gregory smiled, amused.
"You two are a real love story."
Jessica nodded, visibly touched.
"It's more than friendship. It's… visceral. She's like a sister to me. When I doubted everything, she was there. When we moved in here, she carried boxes, built furniture, made last-minute pizzas for the housewarming. She's always been there."
Gregory listened, calm as always. He respected that unwavering friendship, even if he'd never been particularly close to Angie. She was part of the scenery, in a way. A fixture for Jessica. A pillar.
"She's coming for lunch today, right?" he asked.
"Yep, around noon. She's obsessed with your potato gratin, so get ready—she'll ask for seconds."
"I take that as a challenge."
They both laughed. The couple seemed solid, tender. There was no tension, no distance. Gregory was attentive, grounded. Jessica was vibrant, balanced, happy.
At exactly noon, Angie rang the doorbell. She wore a light dress and a big smile.
"I brought wine!" she shouted as she stepped inside.
"Perfect," Gregory called from the kitchen. "It'll go great with the gratin."
Jessica hugged her as always—with that instinctive warmth. They settled in the living room while Gregory put the final touches on the plates.
"So, about this spa weekend—do you really want to do it?" Angie asked, sinking into the couch.
"One hundred percent! Two days with no responsibilities, no guys, no schedules. Just you and me. Pure bliss."
Gregory poked his head through the doorway.
"Can I come if I shave my legs?"
"Only if you agree to a chocolate body wrap," Angie replied, laughing.
The mood was light. Laughter flowed, memories too. Gregory, though a bit more reserved, shared in their fun with kindness. He wasn't jealous or suspicious. He knew their bond didn't take anything away from him.
Lunch was cheerful, filled with stories, jokes, and talk of upcoming vacations. Nothing suggested that soon, something would shift. That Jessica's certainties would start to unravel. That boundaries would be tested.
But for now, everything seemed in place.
The trio shared a simple meal, in the warmth of a Sunday like so many others.