Lily stood on the bridge overlooking the city, the cold wind biting at her skin. Below, the river moved steadily, unaffected by the storm raging inside her.
She had made a decision.
And now, there was no turning back.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She already knew who it was.
Jack: Where are you?
She should answer. She should go home, sit across from him at their dinner table, and pretend like nothing had changed. Pretend like she hadn't already made up her mind.
But she didn't.
Instead, she turned, eyes scanning the crowd until she found him.
Mark.
He stood a few feet away, hands shoved into his pockets, watching her. There was no smugness, no triumph in his expression. Just quiet understanding.
"You came," he said.
Lily exhaled shakily. "I did."
Mark took a step closer. "Are you sure?"
She looked at him—the man who had always made her feel alive, the man she had run from because loving him had felt too big, too overwhelming.
But running hadn't changed anything.
"Yes," she whispered.
Mark didn't ask any more questions. He didn't need to.
Instead, he reached out, fingers brushing against hers. It was a simple touch, but it sent a shiver down her spine.
For the first time in years, Lily felt weightless.
No safety nets. No guarantees.
Just the choice she should have made a long time ago.
She took his hand.
And this time, she didn't look back.
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