We sat there for a moment, two people with lives full of ordinary damage.
Then I asked the question that mattered most.
“Why keep looking?” I whispered. “All these years?”
Dan didn’t hesitate.
“Because we never got our chance,” he said. “Because I never stopped loving you.”
I let out a breath that felt like it had been trapped in me since I was 17.
Then I remembered the post.
“You love me now?” I asked, half-laughing through the sting. “At 62?”
“I’m 63,” he said, smiling gently. “And yes.”
My eyes burned. I blinked fast because I hate crying in public.
