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.
