I left my wife outside in the freezing cold because my sister yelled, “That woman is using you”; when I opened the balcony door I found a fingerprint, a cigarette butt and an unfinished letter, but what destroyed me the most was knowing who those $8,000 were really for.

Sometimes it’s just tiredness. Sometimes it’s fear.

Sometimes it’s a desperate way of not worrying anyone while falling apart inside. Nora was never the same again, but she didn’t give up either.

She resumed a baking course. She visited her mother every two weeks.

She began to smile again, not like before, not with the innocence of someone who believes that love is enough, but with the strength of someone who has survived betrayal and still chooses to stand tall. A year later, Liam received a letter from Gwen.

It was handwritten. “I’m not asking you to come back. I just want you to know that every Sunday I light a candle for Nora. She taught me too late that loving someone doesn’t mean deciding for them. If she ever agrees to see me, I’ll go. If not, I’ll understand.”

Liam showed it to Nora. She read it calmly, folded it, and put it in a drawer.