The house was small, tucked near the sea, far from the city, far from Melissa.
We didn't speak much on the drive. But when we got there, it felt like breathing for the first time in months.
Adrian lit the fireplace. I made tea. We sat close, without walls between us.
"Do you still love her?" I asked finally.
"No," he said without hesitation. "I thought I did… but it wasn't love. It was guilt."
"And with me?"
He looked at me. "With you… it's not guilt. It's grace. It's home."
My heart broke in the softest way.
---
That night, he held me — not out of obligation.
But out of choice.