Finally, she spoke, her voice steady but soft.
“I think we’ve been avoiding this long enough,” Emma said, her eyes meeting mine with a sincerity that was hard to ignore.
I swallowed, the truth of her words undeniable, echoing in the quiet room.
“Yeah,” I admitted, the single word feeling like a release.
Emma took a step into the room, closing the door behind her with a quiet click.
The sound seemed to mark a shift, a subtle but significant change in the atmosphere.
She moved to the edge of the bed, sitting down with a sigh that spoke of heavy thoughts.
I joined her, the mattress dipping slightly under our combined weight.
“It’s just…” Emma started, then paused, searching for the right words.
Her hesitation made the air feel even denser, the silence swelling around us.
“I miss how things used to be,” she finally said, her voice tinged with a vulnerability that made my chest tighten.
I nodded, understanding without needing to ask for more.
“Me too,” I replied, my voice just as soft, just as vulnerable.
There was a pause, a moment where everything seemed to hang in balance, the possibilities of what could be stretching out before us.
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