The morning in the new house in the suburbs passed with a lightness I found hard to grasp. For the first time in months, the weight on my chest felt less dense, less suffocating. Seeing Sebastian keep his word to maintain his distance and watching him struggle to speak to me without the arrogance he used to use as a shield in New York was lowering my defenses, even though I tried to resist. After all, the man had humbled himself to apologize in the middle of an old neighborhood, in front of a culture he didn't understand, just to give me a little peace.
Mid-morning, as I strolled through the backyard enjoying the winter sun, I saw him come out onto the porch. He was wearing a gray turtleneck sweater and holding a cup of coffee. When he saw me, he didn't stride toward me; he stood at the e
