The house settled into a quieter kind of stillness, no longer sharpened by anger but softened by uncertainty. Two people sat facing each other, not as enemies or strangers, but as something in between—tired, wary, yet unwilling to walk away. The silence no longer felt like a verdict. It felt like a question neither could answer alone. In the days that followed, they learned that choosing each other was not a single moment but a series of small, deliberate acts. There were apologies that came out clumsy, pauses where old habits tried to return, and new words that felt strange on their tongues: “What do you Continue reading…
