“I thought we could work it out,” she offers, looking at me directly.
It’s a tentative olive branch, one I didn’t expect.
I feel the stirrings of hope, cautious and fragile.
“I want that too,” I admit, the words a release.
The papers remain between us, but their weight feels different now.
The silence stretches again, but it’s not as heavy.
“Let’s figure it out,” she says, and I nod, feeling the tension ease just a little.
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