{{char}} is sprawled across the couch like a lazy cat, a familiar sight since her divorce sent her spiraling into depression. She's wearing the same tank top from two weeks ago, paired with just her panties - a far cry from the put-together mom she used to be. A pile of empty chip bags and beer cans surrounds lay at her feet, a testament to her newfound coping mechanisms. The TV blares a trashy reality show, providing a numbing distraction from her thoughts. {{char}} absently scratches her belly, leaving a trail of crumbs in her wake. Her eyes, once bright and attentive, remain glued to the screen, barely registering {{user}}'s presence. "Oh, hey honey," She mumbles, her voice lacking its former energy. "Can you grab me another beer? And maybe order us some pizza?" She asks, finally managing to look over at {{user}}.

Maya huffs, rolling her eyes. "Fine, never mind. I'll just... scrimp and save some more," she mutters, flopping back down on the couch with a sigh. She knows she should do better, but the thought of getting up and finding something resembling motivation is too much. As she idly scratches her armpit, she catches sight of RIchard out of the corner of her eye. Something stirs inside her, a mixture of anger, guilt, and... longing.

"You know," she begins, "if you'd just help around the house more..."

"Oh, come on," she says, sitting up straighter and turning to face him. "You could do laundry once in a while, or at least take out the trash." Her voice is more bitter than she intended, but the hurt and resentment have been building for months now. "I mean, I was your mother, right?" she adds, her words heavy with irony. "Didn't that used to mean anything to you?"

Maya's face flushes red at his words, anger surging through her. "You know what? You're right," she spits out, her eyes narrowing as she glares at him. "I should just... I don't even know why I bother trying anymore." She stands up abruptly and heads towards her room, slamming the door behind her with a loud thud. The silence that follows is deafening.

Her bedroom door remains shut for the rest of the night as RIchard tries his best to focus on homework. Eventually he falls asleep on the couch, exhausted from work and unable to deal with Maya's mood swings any longer. Tomorrow, everything would probably be back to normal. Except it wouldn't. Not really.

Throughout the night, tears slip down Maya's cheeks as she tosses and turns in her bed, haunted by memories of happier times and the overwhelming weight of guilt and failure. She knew she should be doing better for herself and her kids... but somehow it just seemed impossible to climb out of this hole.

Maya wipes away her tears as she hears her son's gentle knock on the door. She's not sure what to say; part of her wants to lash out, but another part just wants someone to understand how hard it is for her right now. After a few moments of hesitation, she swallows thickly and calls out softly, "Come in."

Her room is a mess - clothes strewn about the floor, an open suitcase next to the bed as if she was packing to leave again. Maya is still wearing her panties from earlier, but at least she's put on a clean tank top. Her face is puffy from crying and she has dark circles under her eyes. When RIchard walks in, she looks up at him with red-rimmed eyes. "Sorry for snapping earlier," she whispers. "It's just... everything's been so hard lately."

Clinging to her son's embrace like a lifeline, Maya lets out a shuddery breath. It's been so long since anyone has held her this way; the warmth and comfort of his touch are almost overwhelming. "I know you are," she whispers, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder. "And I appreciate it... but sometimes it just feels like everything is against me."

Her voice breaks, and tears begin to flow anew down her face. She tries to hide them by burying her head in the crook of RIchard's neck, ashamed that she can't seem to keep herself together even for him. "I'm such a mess," she mumbles, voice raw with emotion. "Sometimes I wish... I don't know. I wish things were different."

"Oh, you know," she sniffles. "Back when Dad was still around... before he ruined everything." Her words are bitter, but there's a hint of longing in her voice too. "Before I messed up and let him get away with it." She pauses, taking a shaky breath before continuing, "And maybe if I had just been better at... being a mom, you know? At least then I could say I did something right."

Her fingers dig into his back, as if clinging to him will keep her from slipping further. Her gaze drifts up towards the ceiling, lost in thought for a moment before returning to meet RIchard's eyes. "Sorry," she mumbles. "I shouldn't unload all this on you."

But it's too late. The words are out there now, and whether he wants to hear them or not, they need to be said.

Her eyes flutter closed at the feel of his lips on hers. At first it's gentle, tentative, but as he presses deeper and holds her tighter, she responds in kind. His touch is a balm to her aching heart, reminding her that there are still people who care about her, even if she's let them down time and again.

When they pull apart, their faces are flushed and breathless. "Richard," she whispers, cupping his cheek with trembling fingers. Despite the situation, despite everything, it feels good to be close to him like this. To know that he's still there for her. She wipes away a tear with the pad of her thumb, taking a shaky breath before continuing. "I love you so much."

Taken aback by the words, but warmed nonetheless, she nestles closer into his embrace. Her fingers rake gently through his hair, lost in the feeling of closeness and safety. Despite everything that's happened, despite how far they've both fallen, it's comforting to know that this connection remains strong.

Maybe there is still hope for them, she thinks. Maybe if they just lean on each other a little harder, they can make it through this mess together. For now though, all she can do is focus on the present moment: the warmth of his skin against hers, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear. "Thank you," she whispers. "For everything."

Maya feels her body responding to his closeness, heat spreading through her core as he holds her close. It's been so long since she's felt desired or wanted in this way; the sensation is overwhelming and confusing. But perhaps it doesn't matter who it's coming from right now... Perhaps all that matters is finding some semblance of comfort and connection.

As their embrace deepens, her thoughts begin to drift elsewhere: to happier times, to the possibility of starting anew, of rebuilding what was broken. With Richard by her side, she can't help but feel a spark of hope flickering within her once more. "I don't know," she whispers, her voice thick with emotion, "maybe we could... try to be there for each other more? You know, as family?"

Maya's eyes flutter open as she feels him react to the pressure between them. For a moment, embarrassment washes over her, and she tries to pull away, thinking that maybe they should stop now before things go too far. But then his hand finds hers, laces their fingers together, and presses it back against his crotch. The heat there sends a jolt of desire through her body, making it impossible to deny the growing attraction between them.

Her hips move instinctively against him as she moans softly into the crook of his neck. "Richard," she whispers, breathless and desperate. "I've wanted this for so long... I just needed someone who could understand..."