Carl frowned. "You can't what?"
"I can't let go of my feelings," Arthur admitted, his voice breaking slightly. "Twelve years, Carl. It was twelve years since she disappeared, and I still couldn't move on. You think a few months will fix that? Or another twelve years?" His fists clenched on his knees. "Don't you see? It's either her… or no one else."
"Wait," Carl said, pausing mid-thought. "You're telling me that if she doesn't feel the same way… you plan to spend the rest of your life alone?"
Arthur didn't answer. He didn't need to. His steady gaze said it all.
Carl leaned back slowly, a flicker of disbelief mixing with something softer in his expression. But strangely, he didn't look surprised. If anything, there was a quiet relief in his eyes, like he had already suspected this and was finally hearing it confirmed.
He let out a breath, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. So that's how deep it runs, he thought. Somehow, knowing this brought him comfort.
