Chapter 13
Days passed quietly in the small bookstore where Rachel and Eric now lived under the same roof—though the air between them still held tension and unsaid words.
Rachel kept busy, organizing books, making tea, and avoiding eye contact. Eric stayed close, watching her from a distance, careful not to overwhelm her, but desperate to find a way back into her trust.
One rainy afternoon, as Rachel was shelving old novels, Eric finally broke the silence.
“Rachel, I need to know… why didn’t you tell me the truth back then? Why didn’t you fight harder to prove your innocence?”
Rachel froze, her hands gripping a book tightly.
“I did fight,” she whispered. “But no one wanted to listen. You didn’t.”
Eric’s jaw clenched. “I was blinded by anger. I believed the worst without proof.”
She met his eyes for the first time that day, pain and regret mixing in her gaze.
“Because you loved Helen,” Rachel said softly. “And I was just… a convenient enemy.”
Eric closed his eyes, swallowing the guilt.
“I lost the woman I loved,” he said quietly. “And I blamed you because it was easier than facing the truth.”
Rachel sighed, her shoulders slumping.
“Then why are you here now? After everything?”
“Because I need to make it right,” he answered. “Even if it takes the rest of my life.”
For a moment, the rain outside slowed to a soft drizzle, and the weight of years lifted slightly from their hearts.
Neither spoke for a long while, but in the silence, something new began to grow—a fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, they could rebuild what was broken.