So he paid for rooms. Hid transfers. Answered poorly.
And stayed silent.
You did nothing wrong, he wrote. You made your choice with the truth you had.
I sat with that letter for a long time.
He had lied—but now I understood why.
I folded the paper carefully and placed it back in the envelope.
And I grieved—not just the man I lost, but the life we might have had if he’d trusted me enough to let me in.
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