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"Yes." No hesitation. "I do."

I look away. "How long has he been asking?"

She takes a breath. "Months."

My jaw tightens. "Why am I hearing about it now?"

"Because I was afraid." I look back at her. She doesn't flinch. "I know that's not good enough."

"No. It isn't."

That stops me. The Diana I remember would've defended herself. Maybe that's unfair. Maybe I'm remembering both of us through the worst years of our lives.

She folds her arms against the cold. "I owe you an apology. I owed you one a long time ago."

I say nothing.

"I was scared all the time back then. Every deployment. Every phone call. Every time you came home and I didn't know which version of you was going to walk through the door." Her voice catches slightly. "I loved you, Javier."

It doesn't hurt the way I once thought it always would.

"I loved you, and I was terrified. Instead of admitting I couldn't handle what was happening, I blamed you for it." She holds my gaze.

I look away.

"You were struggling. I was struggling. Neither of us knew how to ask for help."

She pauses.

"I thought leaving was the only way I could protect Diego."

There it is. The old wound. Still there. Not bleeding anymore. But there.

"You took my son."

"Yes." No defense. No excuse. Just yes. "I did. And I was wrong to keep him from you the way I did. I told myself distance was better for him. Then enough time passed that reaching out became harder, and I let that become an excuse."

She swallows. "I am sorry, Javier. For leaving the way I did. For making decisions about Diego that I had no right to make alone. For letting so many years pass."

There was a time I imagined this moment. Diana standing in front of me, apologizing. Me finally getting to tell her exactly what she took from me. I had speeches. Years' worth. None of them seem to matter now.

"I wasn't easy to live with."

"You were hurting."

"I was still your husband."

"And I was still your wife." She looks down briefly. "We both needed help we didn't know how to ask for."

I let out a slow breath. "That doesn't make taking Diego away from me right."

"No." Her eyes return to mine. "It doesn't."

Silence settles between us. Not forgiveness. Not yet. Maybe not the kind either of us once imagined. But something quieter. Something that doesn't feel like war anymore.

"I'm married," she says. The words pull me back. "His name is Michael. We've been married six years."

I wait for the reaction I would've had once. It doesn't come. Whatever I felt for Diana belongs to another life now.