As the sun began to set, casting long, golden fingers through the attic window, Elias held the pressed flower to his chest. The house was still quiet, but the silence no longer felt heavy. It felt like a long-held breath finally being released.
He couldn't get the years back, but he finally had the truth. Love doesn't always roar; sometimes, it's just a quiet letter in an attic, waiting for the right moment to heal a broken heart.