She inhaled again, her breathing steadier now.
“You made a mistake back then,” she said, holding my gaze. “But what I’m doing now is hurting both of us as well.”
Her gaze didn’t waver.
“To be honest, at first I wanted to hurt you too,” she continued. “I wanted you to feel the same pain I felt.”
The words hit me harder than anything she could’ve shouted.
Did she hate me enough to want that?
And yet, if she did, it would’ve been easier for her to walk away completely. To let go of us without hesitation, without looking back.
Her voice softened. “But I’m exhausted. I don’t want to live like this forever.”
She took a slow breath. “I just need some time,” she said. “I want to take a few weeks off and stay with my parents. I’ll bring Haille with me.”
My chest tightened.
“And after that,” she continued calmly, “I’ll decide whether we can still be together… or not.”
I didn’t respond right away. It felt like something inside my chest was collapsing, not all at once but piece by piece, like an old structure finally giving in to its own weight.
Time.
It was the most reasonable request she could’ve made. And the most painful one. Because time meant I couldn’t do anythingexcept wait. I couldn’t fix this with effort. I couldn’t make up for it with presence. I couldn’t control the outcome.
I nodded once, small. Even that single movement felt like it cost me more than I wanted to admit.
“Alright,” I said quietly. My voice didn’t shake, but my chest felt tight. “You have every right to ask for that.”
She was leaving. Taking our daughter. Putting distance between us.
And I knew I had no right to stop her.
“I won’t stop you,” I said. “And I won’t turn this into a punishment.”
There was a brief pause before I continued, more honest than I’d ever allowed myself to be. “This is the consequence of what I did. And I’ll carry it.”
My eyes burned, but I didn’t let the tears fall. Not because I wanted to look strong, but because this wasn’t about me. This was about acceptance.
“If you decide to leave in the end,” I said, holding her gaze, “I won’t blame you. I’ll only regret that I understood too late.”
My hands clenched briefly at my sides, then slowly relaxed, as if letting go of something I’d been holding onto for far too long.
“I love you, Elena,” I said quietly. “And this time… I want to love you right.”
CHAPTER 27
Elena
Thomas looked up from his laptop when I knocked on the glass door, his expression shifting into something measured and professional.
“Come in.”
“Can I talk to you for a moment?” I asked.
He assessed me quietly, then slid his laptop slightly to the side. “Alright. Have a seat.”
