(Audrey's POV)
Arthur's fingers were gentle as they combed through my damp hair, the warmth of the blow dryer creating a cocoon of comfort around us. I watched him in the mirror, his face a mask of concentration as he carefully dried each strand.
"I'm sorry, Audrey," he said softly, his eyes meeting mine in the reflection. "I never realized how much I was missing. Your birthdays, our anniversaries... I took everything for granted."
I remained silent, feeling the weight of his words. Three years of memories flashed through my mind—waiting for acknowledgment that rarely came, planning celebrations he barely noticed.
"I thought you were always going to be there," he continued, his voice dropping lower. "I didn't understand that I needed to cherish what we had."
I sighed, the sound barely audible over the drone of the blow dryer. "Some chances don't come around again, Arthur."
His hands stilled momentarily before resuming their task. "I know that now. Too late, it seems."
For a mome
