Rain filled the silence between them. “You broke us,” Emily whispered finally. “I know,” he said, trembling. “And if you never forgive me, I’ll still spend my life trying.” She sighed, voice low and tired. “You wanted a divorce, remember? Maybe I should give you what you asked for.” “Please don’t,” he pleaded. His voice cracked.
After a long moment, she said quietly, “Next time, James… believe me first.” When she stepped aside, he hesitated, just long enough to understand it wasn’t forgiveness, not yet. Only a chance. He followed her inside, rain dripping from his coat, the faint scent of baby powder lingering in the dimly lit house. “She’s upstairs,” Emily said softly. “Second door on the right.”