Miranda's POV
The embrace lasted longer than either of us expected.
Neither of us seemed ready to let go, as though we both understood that once we stepped apart, the difficult conversation waiting between us would finally have to begin.
Eventually, I loosened my arms.
Evelyn smiled gently before guiding me back toward the sofa, where the mugs of tea still sat untouched, their warmth slowly fading with every passing minute.
She picked up her cup.
I picked up mine.
For several moments, we simply sat there in silence, listening to the quiet hum of the apartment around us.
It wasn't uncomfortable.
It was the kind of silence that allowed a heart to gather the courage it had been missing for years.
Evelyn never rushed me.
She didn't ask another question.
She simply waited, and somehow that patience made speaking feel less frightening.
I lowered my eyes to the tea in my hands.
The reflection staring back at me looked unfamiliar.
Tired.
Older somehow.
