We drove back to the city Monday morning, the estate fading into green blur behind us, and by the time we reached the penthouse, my phone had already buzzed twice— Diana, checking in, and a text from Ava that made my chest tighten in an entirely different way than anything from the weekend.
She's stable. They're calling her a fighter already. I don't know how to thank you for staying. I don't think thank you is even the right word for what you did.
I read it twice, something unresolved and tender settling in my chest, and typed back a short reply before I could overthink it. *I'm glad she's okay. Let me know if you need anything.*
It wasn't forgiveness. It wasn't quite a reconciliation either. But it was something, a small bridge extended without either of us needing to name exactly wha
