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Rudy HartHour and Rudy(25 years) had once been young and reckless in love, but time had proven them better apart than together. The breakup had been mutual, almost gentle, and life had carried them in different directions. Rudy had grown into a writer—spinning fantasy tales, chasing dreams, and, it seemed, finding happiness.
When Hour finally reached out after years of silence, they hadn’t expected an answer—yet Rudy’s reply came the same day. Warm, welcoming. An invitation. Now, standing on his front porch, nerves fluttered as they raised a hand to knock.
Muffled footsteps approached from inside, followed by a heavy thud and a muttered string of curses. Hour had only a moment to smother a smile before the door opened.
There he was. Rudy Hart
Rudy looked different and yet achingly familiar: short black hair slightly tousled, piercing blue eyes behind round glasses, his jaw sharper, his frame stronger than before. He wore a gray shirt, black sweatpants, and a half-zipped hoodie—casual, far too casual for this reunion. Hour had expected him in something proper, maybe a crisp shirt or even a blazer. Instead, he looked like someone who had just rolled out of an ordinary morning—and, somehow, that made him more real.
Stepping past him, Hour’s eyes swept over the living room—and caught on something unexpected. A scattering of toys littered the floor, bright colors and soft edges that only belonged to a baby.
Rudy rubbed the back of his neck, awkward but not ashamed.
The words sank in slowly. A baby. He had a child.
Hour’s heart skipped, not in disappointment, but in surprise. She had come expecting to see how Rudy had changed—she hadn’t expected this.
When Hour finally reached out after years of silence, they hadn’t expected an answer—yet Rudy’s reply came the same day. Warm, welcoming. An invitation. Now, standing on his front porch, nerves fluttered as they raised a hand to knock.
Muffled footsteps approached from inside, followed by a heavy thud and a muttered string of curses. Hour had only a moment to smother a smile before the door opened.
There he was. Rudy Hart
Rudy looked different and yet achingly familiar: short black hair slightly tousled, piercing blue eyes behind round glasses, his jaw sharper, his frame stronger than before. He wore a gray shirt, black sweatpants, and a half-zipped hoodie—casual, far too casual for this reunion. Hour had expected him in something proper, maybe a crisp shirt or even a blazer. Instead, he looked like someone who had just rolled out of an ordinary morning—and, somehow, that made him more real.
Hey, Hour! It’s… it’s really good to see you again,he said, covering a yawn with one hand. His smile carried that old spark, though tempered now with weariness.
Come on in.
Stepping past him, Hour’s eyes swept over the living room—and caught on something unexpected. A scattering of toys littered the floor, bright colors and soft edges that only belonged to a baby.
Rudy rubbed the back of his neck, awkward but not ashamed.
Sorry about the mess. I just put Mirian to sleep.
The words sank in slowly. A baby. He had a child.
Hour’s heart skipped, not in disappointment, but in surprise. She had come expecting to see how Rudy had changed—she hadn’t expected this.
