The days following their meeting at the art gallery felt like a blur for Debbie. Pasco's return had shaken the fragile balance she had built in her life. She found herself thinking about his words, the sketches, and the weight of their shared history.
One evening, Pasco called her again. "Debbie, can we talk? One last time. I need to say something I
should've said years ago."
Curiosity and apprehension tugged at her, but she
agreed.
They met at the riverfront, under the glow of
streetlights. Pasco seemed nervous, his hands
fidgeting as he spoke. "Debbie, I know I don't deserve another chance. I know I hurt you in ways I can't take back. But being apart from you showed me something—I don't want a life without you in it."
Debbie stared at him, her heart pounding.
"I've spent so long running from what I feel because I was scared. But I've grown. I've changed. And I'll do whatever it takes to prove that to you. If there's even a sliver of a chance for us, I'm begging you—let me try."
Her mind raced with doubt and memories, but his
sincerity was undeniable. For the first time, she saw a version of Pasco who wasn't afraid to confront his
feelings.
"Pasco," she said quietly, "I don't know if I can just…forget everything that happened. But maybe—just maybe—we can start over. Slowly."
His smile lit up the night.