Days turned into weeks, the document never far from my thoughts. I met with Jane again, this time at our childhood home, its familiar creaks and echoes adding to the weight of our conversation. « I wish things were different, » she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
I nodded, understanding but not accepting. « We need to fix this, » I said, my tone firm. « Together. »
She looked at me, a flicker of hope in her eyes. « Maybe we can find a way, » she said. « I don’t want to lose you over this. »
It wasn’t a resolution, but it was a start. We had a long way to go, but at least we were talking.
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