The night of the gala left Lila restless.
Back in her hotel room, she stood by the window, staring at the moonlit streets of Verona below. The city was quiet, but her mind wasn't. Every word Ethan had said replayed like an echo she couldn't silence.
She wanted to forget him. She wanted to move on.
But love — real love — never obeyed reason.
A knock at her door startled her. She hesitated, knowing who it might be.
When she opened it, Ethan stood there — no pretense, no mask. His tie was gone, his sleeves rolled up, his expression raw with emotion.
"Lila, please," he said softly. "Just five minutes. That's all I'm asking."
She wanted to close the door, but something in his eyes stopped her. She stepped aside.
He entered, the quiet tension between them nearly unbearable.
Ethan ran a hand through his hair. "I don't deserve your forgiveness. I know that. But I can't keep pretending I'm fine without you."
Lila folded her arms. "You had your chance to say all this two months ago."
"I was a coward," he admitted. "Everything I've done since then — every sleepless night, every business decision — it all comes back to you. I thought walking away would protect you, but I destroyed us both."
Her heart ached, but her pride held firm. "You can't just walk back into my life because you regret your choices."
He took a hesitant step closer. "Then tell me how to make it right."
Tears welled in her eyes. "You can't. Some things can't be fixed, Ethan. You broke more than my heart — you broke my trust."
His voice cracked. "I know. But I still love you, Lila. I never stopped."
Silence filled the room. The air between them pulsed with everything unspoken — love, grief, longing.
Finally, she whispered, "Do you even understand what love means now?"
"Yes," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's not about saving someone from pain. It's about standing beside them through it."
Her breath caught. For the first time, his words didn't feel like excuses. They felt like truth.
Ethan reached out, brushing a tear from her cheek, but she didn't pull away. His touch was gentle, hesitant — a ghost of what once was. For a moment, time bent backward: two souls standing on the edge of something fragile, unsure if it was ruin or rebirth.
Then she stepped back. "I can't do this, Ethan. Not yet."
He nodded, pain flickering across his face. "Then I'll wait. For as long as it takes."
As he left, Lila sank onto the bed, heart trembling. For the first time since that fateful day, her tears weren't just of pain — they were of possibility.