t. My chest was a storm of emotions-excitement, fear, longing. I wanted to run, to lo

im, taking in the faint crease at his brow, the subtle lines at the corner of his eyes-small markers of years lived without

, hesitant, almost apologetic. "I thought I could do this withou

relief. "You disappeared, Jerry," I said softly

s gaze dropped to his hands, resting loosely in his lap. "But I didn't leave because I wanted to. Ci

ou disappeared. You left me alone." My voice

ogy, almost in pain. "I know. And I

of heartache had left me cautious, wary of promises that came too late. I folded my arms acro

nd expect forgiveness," I said. "You can't f

hing in his tone made me pause. "Not yet. I'm asking

een hiding? Why did he leave? My mind raced, recalling every conve

aces. I had assumed it was abandonment. I had assumed he no longer loved me

reach for him, to trust him like I once had. But a small, guarded voice whispered:

unwavering, full of a vulnerability I hadn't seen in years. "Ella... I know I have no right to ask anything of you. I don't deser

heart ached, a familiar ache I had tried to bury. The room felt smaller sudd

n everything?" I asked,

lips. "Everything. I'll tell you the trut

I wanted to reach across the space between us and take his hand. But my mind s

first apartment, the small balcony where we had once kissed under the stars, the laughter, the fights, the long, restless nights.

ce was soft, almost hesitant. "You were... impossible. Arrogant, and yet...

one that had once made me weak in the knees. "Imposs

to get me into trouble, anyway." I laughe

er wanted to hurt you, Ella. I know that's what it felt like. But leaving... i

ough I still couldn't fully trust

here were things... responsibilities I couldn't escape. Things

ff guard. I had expected arrogance, excuses, pride. But the

my emotions. "I... I don't know if I can

I'm not asking for that. I just..." His voice fa

f I was fine-it all came crashing down in a single sentence. I wanted to collapse int

I whispered, my

in his eyes never wavered. "I'll wait," he

had held my heart so carefully, and the one who had walked away too soon. And in that flee

eart hammering. Jerry's eyes flicked toward it, and for

now, I wanted to f

electric and terrifying. My chest tightened, my breath caught. Seven year

mured, almost a confes

now if I fully meant it yet. I only knew that in that mome

was still there, but it no

me. The man who had taken a part of me with him

of our past and the ache of unspoken years, I realized

heart is ready-or un