Layla's POV
We chose the night to travel. After finding out about his encounter with my uncle, I knew we needed to leave on the third day so we set out in the evening.
The moon hung like a silent witness in the ink-black sky, its soft glow casting a haunting allure over the clearing where I stood, caught between the shards of my shattered trust and the tentative hope of forgiveness. Nate, the cause of my torment and the one who sought redemption, stood at a respectful distance, his eyes searching mine for a sign, a glimmer of the forgiveness he so desperately sought.
"Layla," he uttered, the sound of his voice a gentle ripple in the night, "I promise you will never regret this."
I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat a testament to the war raging within me. Forgiveness – a concept
