Love, Broken and Reborn

Chapter 4.

“I do,” he says softly.

Before I can stop myself, I reach out and take his hand. “Thank you, Godfrey. For everything.”

He squeezes my hand gently, his touch warm and reassuring. “You don’t have to thank me, Adele. I’m just glad you’re here.”

Cedric’s words hang in the air between us, and for a moment, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. “I didn’t realize what I had…” It’s almost laughable, the way men like him always figure things out too late.

I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms tightly. “So, what now? You expect me to forgive you? Forget everything you did?”

“No,” he says, his voice soft but steady. “I don’t expect that. I just… I need you to know I’m sorry. And I need to know if there’s any chance—any chance at all—that you’ll let me make this right.”

I stare at him, the weight of his words pressing on my chest. “You think it’s that simple, Cedric? An apology and some regret, and we’re supposed to magically fix everything?”

“I don’t think it’s simple,” he says quickly. “But I know what we had was real, Adele. I loved you, and I know you loved me too. Doesn’t that count for something?”

I shake my head, tears stinging my eyes. “You don’t get it, do you? Love isn’t enough, Cedric. It’s trust, respect, effort—none of which you gave me. You pushed me aside for years, and now you think you can just waltz back in and say the right words?”

His expression falters, and for the first time, I see something like vulnerability in his eyes. “You’re right,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “I failed you. Over and over again. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to try, Adele. I don’t want to give up on us.”

“There is no ‘us,’ Cedric,” I snap, the words coming out sharper than I intended. “You gave up on us the moment you made me feel like I wasn’t enough. Do you have any idea what that did to me?”

He opens his mouth to respond, but I cut him off, my voice trembling with anger. “I left because I had to, Cedric. Because staying with you was breaking me. And you know what? I’m finally starting to feel like I can breathe again. I’m not going to let you take that away from me.”

For a moment, he says nothing, his gaze fixed on the table. When he finally looks up, there’s a sadness in his eyes that almost makes me falter.

“I’m sorry, Adele,” he says again, his voice thick with emotion. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I had to try. I had to let you know I still care.”

I swallow hard, my chest aching with a mix of anger and sadness. “You’re too late, Cedric. You had your chance, and you blew it. Now you need to let me go.”

He nods slowly, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “If that’s what you want, I’ll respect it. But for what it’s worth, I’ll always regret what I did to us.”

I don’t respond. Instead, I stand up, grabbing my coat. “Goodbye, Cedric.”

As I walk out of the café, the cold air hits me like a slap, but it’s nothing compared to the storm raging inside me.

I spend the rest of the day wandering aimlessly through town, trying to clear my head. But no matter how far I walk, Cedric’s words echo in my mind. “I’ll always regret what I did to us.”

When I finally return to Godfrey’s cabin, the sun is starting to set, casting the sky in shades of pink and orange. Godfrey is sitting on the porch, a cup of coffee in his hands. He looks up as I approach, his brow furrowing in concern.

“You okay?” he asks, standing as I reach the steps.

I force a smile, even though I know it doesn’t fool him. “Just a long day.”

He studies me for a moment, then nods toward the porch swing. “Sit with me?”

I hesitate, but the warmth in his eyes makes it impossible to say no. I sit down beside him, the swing creaking softly as we rock back and forth.

“Want to talk about it?” he asks gently.

I shake my head, staring out at the trees. “It’s nothing.”

Godfrey doesn’t press me, but his silence feels like an invitation to open up.

“Cedric’s here,” I say finally, my voice barely above a whisper.

His head snaps toward me, his jaw tightening. “What?”

“I ran into him at the bakery,” I explain, my hands twisting in my lap. “He wanted to talk, to apologize. He said he regrets everything he did.”

Godfrey’s expression darkens, and I can see the tension in his shoulders. “And what did you say?”

“I told him it’s too late,” I say, my voice trembling. “I told him to let me go.”

“Good,” he says firmly. “He doesn’t deserve you, Adele. Not after everything he put you through.”

I glance at him, his words surprising me. “You sound pretty sure of that.”

“I am,” he says, his gaze unwavering. “You deserve someone who sees your worth, Adele. Someone who treats you the way you deserve to be treated.”

His words catch me off guard, and for a moment, I don’t know how to respond.

“Thank you,” I say softly, my chest tightening with emotion.

He reaches over, his hand brushing against mine. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m just telling the truth.”

That night, I lie awake in bed, my mind racing. Godfrey’s words keep replaying in my head, the warmth of his hand lingering like a ghost.

I don’t know when it started—this pull I feel toward him. Maybe it was the way he welcomed me back into his life without question, or the way he always knows exactly what to say. Whatever it is, it scares me.

Because as much as I want to believe in the possibility of something new, I’m not sure I’m ready to let my guard down again.

The next morning, I wake up to the sound of laughter coming from the kitchen. When I walk in, I see Godfrey talking to a young woman with dark hair and bright eyes.

“Adele,” he says, his face lighting up when he sees me. “This is Emma, my neighbor. She stopped by to drop off some fresh eggs.”

“Hi,” Emma says, smiling warmly. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too,” I say, feeling a pang of awkwardness.

“I was just telling Emma about the winter festival,” Godfrey says, pouring me a cup of coffee. “She’s got a booth there selling handmade scarves.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” I say, trying to sound enthusiastic.

Emma grins. “You should stop by. I’ve got a new collection I think you’d love.”

“I’ll do that,” I promise, though I’m not sure if I mean it.

As Emma leaves, I can’t help but notice the way she looks at Godfrey—the easy laughter, the way her eyes linger on him a little too long.

“You two seem close,” I say casually as he sits down across from me.

He shrugs. “She’s a good friend. We’ve known each other for years.”

“Just a friend?” I ask, trying to keep my tone light.

Godfrey smirks, clearly catching my meaning. “Yes, just a friend. Why? Jealous?”

I laugh, even though my heart skips a beat. “Hardly.”

But as the day goes on, I can’t shake the unease that settles in my chest.

That evening, Godfrey suggests we watch a movie together. We settle onto the couch, a bowl of popcorn between us.

Halfway through, I realize I’m not paying attention to the screen at all. Instead, I’m hyper-aware of how close we’re sitting, the warmth of his arm brushing against mine.

“You okay?” he asks, glancing at me.

“Yeah,” I say quickly, looking away.

But he doesn’t let it go. He pauses the movie, turning to face me. “Adele, talk to me. What’s going on?”

I hesitate, the words stuck in my throat. “It’s nothing,” I say finally.

“Adele,” he says softly, his voice full of concern. “You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”

I nod, my chest tightening. “It’s just… everything feels so complicated right now. Cedric showing up, Saskia, the baby… I don’t know how to make sense of it all.”