He unfolded the paper slowly, his movements deliberate. I watched his face, searching for any sign of reaction. “This changes things,” I said, breaking the silence.
His eyes met mine, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of vulnerability. “I didn’t know,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Didn’t you?” I challenged, feeling the anger bubbling beneath the surface.
He sighed, setting the document aside. “Things were different back then,” he said, his tone defensive yet resigned.
“Different for you, maybe,” I retorted. “But now we have to deal with it.”
He nodded, a slow, deliberate motion. “What do you want to do?” he asked, the question hanging between us like a fragile thread.
“I need time,” I replied, knowing that this was only the beginning of a long journey.
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