The following morning, Dylan woke up early, as usual. He wasn't the type of person to linger in bed. His days followed a simple but reassuring routine, and today, more than ever, he felt the need for it. The day before, Léa had announced her decision to look for a job. This statement, simple on the surface, had opened a new chapter for her. She seemed ready to embark on the path of rebuilding, to take control of her life, and Dylan felt honored to be part of it.
He took a deep breath that morning. He had watched Léa the day before as she prepared for her day. There was a new energy in her movements, a quiet determination that was unusual for her. She had set aside her bathrobe, put on a simple but neat outfit, and paused in front of the mirror before leaving. She didn't say much that morning, but he could see in her eyes that she was ready. Ready to move forward. Ready to face her fears.
Dylan felt oddly nervous. It was as though he was sharing this moment of transition with her while still staying a little on the sidelines, in the shadow of his own doubts. That feeling of not doing enough, of not being the one who could help fix everything, was familiar. But he also knew that wasn't his place. He didn't have to be the one to erase her past. He just needed to be there, supporting without invading.
Léa returned late in the afternoon, her features slightly marked by fatigue. But there was something different about her posture, a lightness, a weight lifted. Dylan got up from his chair and approached her. He didn't need to ask how her day had gone. Her face told him everything. He stopped in front of her and waited for her to speak.
"I found something," she said, a timid smile forming on her lips. "A small café, just a few streets away. They're looking for someone to help behind the counter."
Dylan felt a wave of relief. It wasn't a dream job, but it was a start, a first step in the right direction. "That's great, Léa," he said, offering her a sincere smile. "You see, you've already started taking the reins."
Léa nodded, but her eyes were a little darker, as if this small victory had also confronted her with realities she wasn't ready to face. "Yeah, but… I couldn't help wondering: am I really ready? Am I still running away?"
Dylan took a deep breath. He knew this kind of question was coming. The road to healing was never a straight line. He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, a simple gesture but full of meaning.
"You don't have to have all the answers right away. No one is 100% ready to face everything. But you're taking steps, and that's what matters. Every small step brings you closer to the person you want to become, and I'm here to support you, no matter what."
Léa lowered her gaze, reflecting on his words. After a moment of silence, she looked up and smiled. This smile was more genuine than the previous one, more authentic. There was something in her eyes, a kind of silent gratitude she didn't always know how to express.
"Thank you, Dylan," she said, her voice firmer. "You know, I don't know where all of this will lead, but I think I'm starting to believe I have the right to rebuild myself. Even if it takes time."
"You're absolutely right," Dylan replied, his heart beating a little faster at her words. "And you don't have to rush. It's not a race."
Léa nodded and sat down in the chair by the window. The evening light illuminated her face in a particular way, as if a new energy was within her. She still had many questions without answers, fears she hadn't yet faced, but she now seemed ready to confront them, in her own way, without letting them consume her.
The following days were marked by small victories and hesitations. Léa went to the café every morning, trying to immerse herself in this new routine. Sometimes, she came back late, exhausted but proud of holding on. Other times, she seemed more distant, lost in her thoughts. Dylan respected her need for solitude, but he always kept an eye on her, like a lighthouse in the fog.
One afternoon, as they were having coffee together, Léa spoke more openly about her past. "I think I've always been afraid of failure. Not just professional failure, but personal failure. Of not being enough, of letting the people around me down. And my husband… he made me believe I was nothing without him."
Dylan looked at her in silence, feeling the pain in her words. "That's not true, Léa. You're not defined by someone else, nor by your mistakes. Everyone has their weaknesses. But you also have a strength within you that many don't see."
She nodded slowly, as if his words were taking root inside her. But there was still that doubt in her eyes, the fear of not knowing if she could truly be free, if she could live without the chains of the past. "I don't know if I deserve this freedom," she murmured. "I feel so guilty. I feel like I've never really known how to love someone for real."
Dylan didn't answer immediately. He knew these feelings were deep, that they wouldn't vanish with a few words. But he also felt that, little by little, Léa was beginning to free herself. Every step, every word she said, brought her a little closer to herself.
"You have the right to love yourself, Léa," he finally replied, his voice soft but full of conviction. "You have the right to believe that you are capable of happiness. And you don't have to prove it to anyone. Not even to yourself. You are already enough."
She looked at him for a long time, as if his words were sinking deeply into her, bringing more light into her heart. Then, with a timid but sincere smile, she replied, "Thank you, Dylan. Really. I think I'm going to try to remember that."
And in that moment, Dylan knew that, little by little, Léa would begin to understand that, despite her past, she deserved to move forward. And he would be there to support her, step by step, on this uncertain but promising journey toward healing.