The old bridge hadn't changed. Rusted rails. Slow water. Memories stuck between past and present.
Mara stood there, thinner, calmer, unfamiliar. Her eyes held no anger—only distance.
"You look older," she said.
"I am," Eliot replied.
They stood in silence—the kind that weighed a thousand words.
"I didn't come for closure," Mara said. "I came because I'm tired of carrying your secret."
Eliot nodded. "I deserve that."
"No," she corrected softly. "You deserve honesty. Finally."
She told him about her life. Another country. Therapy. Love that didn't last. Nights where she hated herself for missing him.
"I forgave you," she said. "But forgiveness isn't reunion."
Tears burned his eyes. "I don't want us back. I just… wanted to say I'm sorry without hiding."
Mara studied him. Then, for the first time in years, she smiled sadly.
"That's all I needed."
She handed him a new phone number.
Then walked away.