One month later.
Claire slept over at Daniel's hostel. That morning there was a message.
Not from Daniel—but to him.
Emma hadn't meant to see it. She'd only picked up his phone from the nightstand to check the time while he was in the shower. But the notification had flashed across the screen before she could look away.
[Sofie]: "Still in Copenhagen? Would be great to catch up—just us this time. No distractions 😉"
Claire stared at the message, her chest tightening.
She didn't recognize the name. But the implication was enough to leave a bitter taste in her mouth.
She tried to shrug it off, tucking his phone back where she found it. But by the time they were eating breakfast together in his shared hostel kitchen, her thoughts were running wild.
"Everything okay?" Daniel asked, mouth full of toast.
"Yeah. Sure."
He looked at her a moment too long. "You don't look okay."
Claire sighed, trying to play it cool. "Who's Sofie?"
Daniel blinked. "Sofie?"
"Yeah," she said, keeping her tone level. "The one who just messaged you."
Daniel looked surprised for a second too long. "She's... a friend from back home. We used to hook up, but that was a long time ago."
Claire's stomach dropped, though she tried not to show it.
"Oh," she said. "And she wants to catch up. Alone."
Daniel nodded slowly. "Yeah, but I haven't replied. I wasn't planning to."
"Why not just delete her number then?"
He paused. "Because I don't want to be that person who ghosts people. It's not a big deal, Claire."
Claire looked away. "It is to me."
The argument escalated fast.
It wasn't just about Sofie—it became about everything. Boundaries. Trust. The unspoken insecurities that Claire had tried to keep tucked away. The way Daniel sometimes didn't realize how easily his casual attitude could sting.
"You act like nothing ever touches you," she snapped. "Like everything's just breezy and temporary and not supposed to matter."
"That's not fair," Daniel said. "I've been real with you from the start."
Claire stood up, her arms crossed. "Then why am I the one wondering if you're still entertaining girls with winking emojis?"
Daniel stood too. "Because you don't trust me."
Claire blinked. "Because you haven't asked me to."
That stopped him.
Silence fell between them like a door slamming shut.
They didn't talk for two days.
Claire stayed at her own dorm, dodging texts from Emma and burying herself in coursework. She kept replaying the conversation, wondering if she'd overreacted—or if maybe, just maybe, Daniel had finally shown her that she wasn't as special to him as she'd believed.
On the third night, she found herself walking aimlessly around Nørrebro, hands jammed in her coat pockets, when she spotted him—leaning against his bike near the bookstore they used to visit together.
He looked tired.
So did she.
"I didn't meet up with her," he said before she could say anything. "I didn't even reply. I should've deleted her number the moment I realized it upset you."
Claire said nothing, her eyes searching his.
Daniel stepped closer. "I'm not perfect, Claire. I've never done a relationship that felt like this before. I don't always know what I'm doing, but I do know I don't want to lose you."
Her shoulders relaxed a little, but her voice was cautious. "Then be more careful with me."
"I will," he said. "And I'll ask you what you need, instead of assuming I already know."
They stood there in the cold, faces red from the wind and from everything unspoken between them.
"I hate fighting with you," Claire whispered.
Daniel reached out, brushing his fingers against hers. "Then let's get better at disagreeing."
Claire smiled faintly. "That sounds... incredibly mature for a guy who eats ice cream for breakfast."
He grinned. "Character growth."
She laughed softly and leaned into him, her cheek pressing against his chest.
The warmth returned, slow but certain.
They were learning.
The honeymoon haze had cracked—but through the cracks, something more real began to grow.