“I’m sorry,” she says again.
The door shuts, and the house feels like it exhales.
Ellie stares at me like she’s deciding whether to argue or respect me.
Finally she says, “That was… emotionally responsible. I hated it.”
I let out a breath that almost turns into a laugh. “I didn’t do it for her.”
“I know,” Ellie says. “But forgiveness doesn’t mean it hurts any less.”
“I know.”
Emma’s eyes soften. “I’m proud of you.”
The words land warm, even as my body feels exhausted.
The rest of the day becomes what Ellie called it, a girls’ day.
Not in the glossy, montage way. In the way where we exist in the same space and let the silence be safe again.
Emma insists on making food, which is ridiculous because it’s my house, but she does it anyway. Ellie puts on music and complains about every song choice like it personally offended her.
At some point, we move to the floor in the living room with blankets and snacks like we’re teenagers, and Ellie starts talking about nothing on purpose.
A reality show. A weird customer at a bookstore. A dumb fight she witnessed online.
It’s noise, but it’s the good kind. The kind that reminds you the world is still here.
Eventually, Ellie goes quiet, her gaze sliding to mine.
“Have you two talked about what happened?”
My stomach tightens. “No.”
Emma’s brows knit. “Do you want to?”
I hesitate. “I think… eventually.”
Ellie nods once. “That makes sense.”
Emma shifts closer. “Do you think the two of you can figure out what this looks like now?”
The question makes my chest tighten again.
“I don’t think it goes back to what it was,” I say.
Ellie nods once. “That’s fair.”
Emma’s voice is gentle. “And you don’t feel like that’s on you alone?”
“No,” I say. “I just want to be here when he’s ready.”
Ellie’s expression softens slightly, like she believes me. “Good. Because he doesn’t need saving. He needs space to feel it, and you can’t feel it for him.”
Emma adds quietly, “But you can be the place he comes back to.”
That sentence lands somewhere deep.‘I want to be that place.’
