Ella. My Ella. Seven years had done nothing to dull the ache her presence always stirred in me. In fact,

iant, trying to protect herself from me. She was still beautiful, but more than that, she carried the strength and poise that had been forged in

an, my voice tight. "I don't deserve your forgiveness. I don't even know if I deserve a chance to exp

tart," she said softly, almost defiantly.

uth was heavy, but it had to be s

hift I noted, remembering that night like it had happened yesterday. "You thought I

, the hurt that had haunted me every night I spent

. But there were things-things I couldn't tell you at the time. Responsibilities, family obligations, circumstances

the war inside her-the battle between the girl who r

ry. I waited. I-" Her voice faltered, emotions threate

w what it felt like. And I will carry the guilt for the rest of my life

ed to reach for her, to bridge the space that had stretched across years

at would protect you from being dragged into a world you didn't belong in. I thought that if I left, if I removed myself from your life, you'd be

one who had loved me fiercely, completely. I also saw the new Ella-the woman who had survived hear

en I told myself I was doing the right thing, my heart stayed with you. I woke up every day wishing

gave me hope. Perhaps she still remembered, perhaps she still felt

ve you," she whispered. "Not

s. "Not now, not ever if you don't want to. I just...

through her defenses. "And if I hear it," she said, her vo

you has never been about what I deserve. It's about what you need.

wanted to reach for her hand again, to close the space between

e through my chest, beautiful and terrify

ted to laugh, cry, shout-all at once. The years of distance, p

't know what to say. Seven years of silence

poken desires. I could feel her warmth, subtle and inviting, and I was reminded

trembling. "Scared that I'll love you again a

hide from this anymore. I won't leave again. I pro

r shoulders eased, her breath evening out. The small, almost imperceptible no

the pain of the past. But we both knew it wouldn't be that simple. Trust wasn

ally, almost to herself. "Let's start

flooding me at her words.

about the family pressures, the business struggles, the impossible decisions I had been forced to

reminder that some bonds are not broken by time, distance, or pain-the

d patience, curiosity, and a fragile, cautious hope. Ella was still wary, still gua

room in gold, I knew one thing with certainty: nothing would ever be the s

me, I wasn'