The choice did not come with ceremony.There was no dramatic declaration, no soft moment framed by relief. It came later that night, when the house had settled and the silence no longer felt charged, just open.Nathaniel was sitting on the edge of the bed, jacket discarded, sleeves rolled up, posture loose in a way it rarely was anymore. Lillian stood near the window, city lights diffused through glass, her reflection faint and doubled.She had been quiet for a long time.“I need to say something,” she said finally.He looked up at her at once. Not guarded. Attentive.“I know,” he replied.She turned to face him fully.
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