Ch. 20: Where We Begin

Rain traced long silver lines down the window, and somewhere a clock counted the hours.

Nina crossed the room slowly, aware of every step, of the way he was watching without seeming to. "You shouldn't have come," he said, and the words landed softer than they were meant to. For a heartbeat the careful distance between them thinned to nothing at all.

"I'm not asking you to forgive me," Nina said. "I'm asking you to listen." "I'm not asking you to forgive me," Nina said. "I'm asking you to listen." "You shouldn't have come," he said, and the words landed softer than they were meant to.

"You shouldn't have come," he said, and the words landed softer than they were meant to. There was a history between them that neither would name, written in the things they did not do.

They did not speak for a long moment. Some silences carry more than words ever could, and this was one of them.

"You shouldn't have come," he said, and the words landed softer than they were meant to. For a heartbeat the careful distance between them thinned to nothing at all.

He watched her go and understood, too late, that he had already made his choice.