POV: Third Person
The park bench sat under the old oak tree where Ethan, Lena, and Ryan had shared countless picnics over the years—kids running around, laughter echoing, friendship easy and uncomplicated. Today, the leaves rustled softly in the evening breeze as the three of them gathered one final time. No kids. No distractions. Just raw honesty under the fading light.
Lena arrived first, hands clasped tight in her lap, her eyes red from another sleepless night. Ethan pulled up next, his truck parking beside Ryan’s. The two men nodded at each other—guarded but no longer hostile. Ryan looked worn from days of packing, but he’d come when Lena texted the group chat: We need to talk. All of us. No more running.
They sat in a triangle on the grass, close enough to touch but far enough to b
