Three months later, my phone rang.
Ryan.
I hesitated… then answered.
“Hey.”
His voice was different. Stronger. Clearer.
“I moved out,” he said.
My heart skipped.
“What?”
“I got my own place. I told her… I can’t live like that anymore.”
I closed my eyes.
“That must’ve been hard.”
“It was,” he admitted. “But for the first time… I feel like myself.”
A pause.
“I should’ve done it sooner. For you.”
Tears filled my eyes.
“I’m not asking you to come back,” he added. “I just… wanted you to know.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
We didn’t get back together right away.
Because love alone isn’t enough without boundaries.
But something had changed.
In him.
And in me.
Six months later, we met again.
Just coffee.
No expectations.
No pressure.
And for the first time since the night everything broke…
There was no one standing between us.
