As the weight of the evening settled over Henry's apartment like a heavy fog, Eliana pulled back from their embrace, her arms lingering for just a moment longer on his broad shoulders. The air was thick with unspoken sorrows—Henry's from the accident he'd witnessed, and hers from the silence that screamed louder than any rejection. She wiped a stray tear from his cheek with her thumb, her touch gentle, like mending a fragile piece of glass.
"Henry," she whispered, her voice soft but steady, "you've carried enough today. Let it go for now. Ruth... she's strong, just like you said. And you were there for her when she needed it most. That's what matters."
He nodded slowly, his warm eyes meeting hers, shadowed by exhaustion. "I know. It's just... hard to shake off. Seeing her like that, trapped and scared. But you're right, Eliana. Thank you—for being here. For listening."
