Later, in the parking lot, Elena asked if I ever thought about us beyond parenting.

I told her the truth: I did, often, but I would not mistake the desire to recover our old romance for proof that we could build a healthy new one.

“Good,” she said, a small smile appearing.

“Because I’m not interested in being rescued from a life I built without you.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to be.”

She squeezed my hand once before walking away.

For the rest of the day, I felt the warmth of that brief gesture, but I did not rush to turn it into a promise.