The days passed slowly, but at every moment, Dylan felt that something deep inside him was changing. Léa seemed calmer, her gaze less lost, her posture less hunched. The first few weeks had been marked by silences, moments of uncertainty, and hours of shy conversations. But today, something had shifted. The wounds weren't healed yet, of course, but there was a glimmer, a desire to rise again, to reclaim her place in a world that sometimes seemed so harsh.
Léa had started to leave the apartment more often, to engage with the outside world, though it wasn't easy. She often walked alone in the streets, as if she were trying to regain balance, to tame the world she had fled. Dylan accompanied her sometimes, but he respected her need for solitude. He knew that healing didn't only happen within the comfort of four walls, but also in confronting the outside world, with its fears and memories.
One afternoon, as they took a quiet walk in the park, Léa suddenly stopped. She stared intently at a group of people sitting on a bench, absorbed in conversation, laughing together. There was something about that image that disturbed her. Dylan stopped beside her, watching the scene, not immediately understanding what was going through Léa's mind. He waited, as always, for her to make the first move to open up.
She slowly turned her gaze towards him, and Dylan had the feeling that her eyes were trying to hide from him. They were filled with pain, like a turbulent ocean, a sea that had not yet found peace.
"I... I don't think I've ever been able to have a normal life," she said, her voice soft but heavy with meaning. "I've always been surrounded by people, friends, colleagues, but never really present. I listened to them, laughed, pretended to be someone else. I was always who they wanted me to be, but never myself. And now... I can't face them, can't confront them."
Dylan looked at her, surprised by this confession. Until now, Léa had seemed so far removed from all of this, focusing on her healing, her reconstruction. He hadn't imagined that a simple moment of happiness – like the one he had just seen – could revive such painful memories.
"You mean... they didn't know what you were going through?" he asked softly.
Léa nodded. "No. No one knew. And even if someone had known, I never would have wanted to talk about it. I was afraid they'd see who I really was. I was afraid they'd judge me."
Silence fell between them, heavy with unspoken words. Dylan just looked around, listening to the sounds of the park, the laughter of children playing in the distance, the birds singing. It was a peaceful, almost unreal scene compared to Léa's suffering. A world that seemed to keep turning while her own world lay in pieces.
"You know," Dylan began, "I think everyone, at some point, faces trials that others can't see. It's not your fault. It's not your job to carry that weight alone."
Léa looked at him, and this time, she seemed to be searching for something in his gaze, a form of support, of understanding, but also a little courage. She then turned towards the path that led out of the park.
"Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever be able to face all of this. I feel like I'm running away, running away from myself."
Dylan walked beside her, unsure how to respond. His own pains, his past marked by mockery and misunderstanding, suddenly seemed so small compared to what Léa was carrying. Yet, he knew he had a role to play. That role wasn't to fix her problems, but to accompany her, to be there, to not let her carry the weight of her suffering alone.
"You've already taken a big step," he finally said. "By coming here, by seeking healing, you've already begun to free yourself from all of that."
They reached the door to the apartment. Léa turned to him, a faint smile on her lips, almost imperceptible, but enough to melt a little of the ice that seemed to surround her.
"Thank you, Dylan," she murmured. "Really. I feel like I'm starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel, even if it's still far away."
In her eyes, there was a different glow today. It wasn't a bright joy, but a form of hope, of nascent peace. Dylan, for his part, still didn't know where this road would take them. But one thing he knew: he wouldn't let her stop halfway. No matter how long it took, he would be there, every step of the way.
The next day, after a calm night, Léa decided to take a new initiative. She got up early, a newfound determination in her gaze. Dylan watched her get dressed, her movements a bit more lively than before. She seemed ready to face something she had avoided for years.
"I'm going to look for a job," she said, her voice firm.
Dylan looked at her, surprised but happy to see that she was starting to take the reins of her life again. "Do you want help looking?"
Léa shook her head, a discreet smile on her lips. "No, I'll do it on my own. But thank you. I need to find my place again. Maybe it's time to rebuild."
Dylan watched her leave, feeling both proud and nervous for her. He knew it was just the first step. But it was a step forward, a step towards healing. And that was all he could ask for, for now.