He hadn’t overthought the joke. Things had felt a little muted between them lately—long days, short conversations, both of them stretched thin by work. He simply wanted a small moment of lightness, the kind they used to fall into so easily. He never expected anything more than a laugh.
So when he slipped into the hallway that evening, planning to rattle the back door, he wasn’t trying to frighten her deeply. He was trying to feel close again—to pull her into a moment where they could laugh, maybe ease whatever had been simmering beneath the surface. He hadn’t imagined the silence that followed.