"Why are you out here?" Bryan asked when he found Estelle sitting outside the house that evening.
On the table nearby, he noticed a small box. He recognized it — he'd seen it once before. He knew it was important to her, and that she never wanted him to find it. Bryan realized, not for the first time, how much about his wife he still didn't know. He couldn't blame her for keeping things from him.
"If I said I wanted to leave this place," Estelle murmured, not looking at him, "would you come with me?"
Bryan frowned, taken aback. "What's wrong? Did something happen?" he asked gently, stepping closer.
"I'm sorry, Bryan." She turned toward him, tears filling her eyes.
Bryan's heart tightened. "What happened?" he asked again, his voice full of worry.
"I know I agreed to marry you for selfish reasons," she said, her voice trembling. "But I can't keep you tied to a mistake I made. I'm sorry for—"
"Shh." Bryan pulled her into his arms.
"You didn't force me into this," he whispered. "I was the one who asked you to marry me. I had my own selfish reasons too."
He held her gently, his hand moving across her back. He knew how the other nurses treated her when he wasn't around. He'd seen the way they looked at her — and hated that he hadn't done anything. He thought silence would protect her, but all it did was make things worse.
"I don't know what happened today," he said softly. "But you can lean on me, Estelle. If leaving this place will help you breathe again, then let's go. Wherever you want to go, I'll come with you."
He didn't tell her everything — not yet. He didn't tell her that he'd chosen her not just to escape his parents' control, but because he'd seen something fragile and brave in her. He thought maybe his presence could ease the pain she carried.
So he held her a little tighter, as if to say what words could not:
I'm here. I'll wait for you.
The first light of dawn crept through the thin curtains, painting the room in pale gold. Estelle stirred awake, her head resting on Bryan's shoulder. For a moment, she simply listened — to the quiet rhythm of his breathing, to the faint hum of life outside their window.
She remembered the night before — the tears, her confession, the warmth of Bryan's arms around her. Shame rose briefly in her chest, but it was softer now, no longer crushing. Instead, it carried a strange kind of relief. She had spoken the truth, and he hadn't turned away.
Bryan was still asleep. His hand, loosely draped over hers, felt warm and steady. Estelle stared at their intertwined fingers, realizing how much she had taken that steadiness for granted.
She slipped out of bed quietly and walked toward the table where the small box still sat. The ring inside glimmered faintly in the morning light. She opened it one last time, tracing the edge of the band with her thumb.
Then, with a deep breath, she closed the lid.
It didn't feel like losing something anymore — it felt like laying something to rest.
When she turned around, Bryan was awake, watching her. There was no judgment in his eyes, only quiet understanding.
"Good morning," he said, voice still heavy with sleep.
"Good morning," she answered softly. "I was thinking… maybe we don't have to leave just yet."
He smiled faintly, sitting up. "You sure?"
She nodded. "Yes. I want to try to make things right here first. With myself… and with you."
Bryan reached out and took her hand again. "Then we'll face it together."
Estelle exhaled slowly, the weight on her chest easing for the first time in months. For the first time in a long while, she felt ready — not to run from the past, but to walk toward something new.
"Rosette?" Dranred's voice caught with surprise when he saw her standing outside the gym. He hadn't expected her — and one look at her face told him something was wrong. Her eyes were red and puffy, the way they get after crying.
His teammates, just stepping out beside him, also froze. They had planned to go out for drinks after practice, but the moment he saw Rosette, Dranred knew he wouldn't be joining them.
"I'm sorry, guys," he said quickly. "I'll pass tonight."
"Well, that's a given," one of them teased. "Looks like your girlfriend's here to pick you up."
"Girlfriend?" Nathan blinked.
"Oh, come on," another laughed, slinging an arm around Nathan's shoulder. "You've seen how close they are."
"That doesn't mean they're dating," Nathan muttered. "They're childhood friends, remember?"
Their coach waved a hand. "Go on, Dranred. She's waiting."
"Thanks. I'll make it up to you next time," Dranred said, giving a polite bow before jogging toward Rosette. His teammates watched him go — and then gasped when Rosette suddenly stepped forward and wrapped her arms tightly around him.
Nathan's eyes widened. "See?" his friend whispered. "Told you."
"Just buy me a drink," Nathan grumbled, and the group slowly drifted away, leaving the two alone.
"Rosette," Dranred murmured, stunned but gentle. "What are you doing here?"
"What happened?" he asked quietly.
Even from a distance, he could see the redness in her eyes, the tension in her trembling shoulders. She didn't speak right away, and that silence said enough.
Dranred didn't know what had happened. But one thing he knew for sure — Rosette wouldn't have come here, looking like this, unless something had truly broken her heart.
"Hey," Dranred said softly when Rosette suddenly threw her arms around him.
He froze for a second, startled, then gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "What happened?" he asked, voice low with concern.
She didn't answer. So he said nothing more, just stood there, letting her cry. The sound of her quiet sobs cut through the fading noise from the gym.
When her tears finally slowed, he guided her gently toward his car. The sun had already dipped below the buildings, and the air was turning cool.
"Feeling a little better?" he asked once they were sitting inside.
Rosette nodded faintly but kept her eyes on her lap.
"I'm sorry," she whispered after a moment. "You were the only one I could think of to come to."
"Why are you apologizing?" Dranred smiled faintly, hoping to ease the heaviness in her voice. "To be honest, I'm… kind of happy you came. Though I was expecting a smile, not tears." His tone softened into a teasing lilt, hoping it might coax even a small laugh out of her.
It didn't, but he saw her lips tremble — not in pain this time, but almost in gratitude.
He hesitated, then asked again, "What happened?"
Rosette looked out the window, the streetlights reflecting in her damp eyes.
"It's okay," he said gently. "You don't have to tell me."
But even as he said it, disappointment flickered in him. He wanted to understand what had hurt her so deeply.
After a pause, Rosette spoke — her voice quiet and unsteady. "I shouted at Estelle."
Dranred turned toward her, startled.
"She said she wanted to get back together with you," Rosette continued, still looking out the window. "And I just… lost it. I said things I shouldn't have. I let my anger take over. I shouldn't have done that, no matter what she said. It wasn't right."
Dranred stared at her, a dozen thoughts crowding his mind. Rosette was calm by nature, gentle even when she was upset. For her to raise her voice like that — there had to be a deeper reason.
"I'm sorry," he murmured. "This is my fault. I—"
Rosette shook her head quickly, cutting him off before he could finish.
And for a moment, neither of them spoke again. The car was filled only with the soft hum of the engine and the quiet rhythm of their breathing — the kind of silence that said everything words could not.
"No!" Rosette said sharply, lifting her head to meet Dranred's eyes. "Whatever the reason, I shouldn't have spoken to Estelle that way. It wasn't your fault. I just… couldn't contain my anger."
She took a shaky breath. "I shouldn't have let it control me."
Dranred tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "Even if you say it's not my fault, I can't just ignore that I'm part of all this," he said quietly. "Still, believe me when I say — whatever I had with Estelle is part of the past now. It's better that way."
He glanced at her, his tone softening. "I'd still like to be friends with her, but going back to what we had… that's not possible anymore."
Rosette looked at him, startled by how calm he sounded. Before she could speak, Dranred added, "Now — should we go to Estelle's house?"
"What?!" Rosette turned to him in disbelief. "You heard what I said, right?"
Dranred chuckled. "Of course I did. But I also know you. You won't be able to sleep tonight unless you talk things out with her. And I'm sure she's worried about you, too."
"But—"
"No buts," he said, smiling as he started the engine. The car purred softly to life as they pulled away from the curb.
Rosette glanced sideways at him. "Are you sure about this? You know you'll see Estelle if we go there."
"That's for sure," he said lightly. "But I can't exactly hide from her, can I?"
"Red!" she said, exasperated.
He looked at her briefly, his smile softening. "I know. I'll be fine. Don't worry about me, okay? Just think about what you want to say to her."
Rosette fell silent, her eyes drifting toward the darkened streets outside. Her pulse quickened with both fear and relief.
Dranred glanced at her again — her profile lit faintly by passing headlights — and reached out to take her hand. She looked up, startled, meeting his warm, steady gaze.
"You're with me," he said softly. "I'll be by your side."
His fingers gave hers a gentle squeeze — firm, reassuring, full of quiet strength.
Rosette didn't speak, but the tears that slipped down her cheeks this time were no longer from pain — they were from the strange, comforting warmth that had finally found her again.