But the warmth had disappeared.

Instead there was a calm that felt colder than anger.

“What are you doing here, Daniel?” he asked without fully opening the door.

He felt the words get stuck in his throat.

Nine years of excuses… and suddenly none of them mattered.

“I needed to see you,” she said softly. “We need to talk.”

Emily crossed her arms.

“After everything you did?”

“After nine years?”

Daniel awkwardly picked up the flowers.

“I didn’t come here to fight,” he said. “I came here because… I’m losing everything.”

She looked at the bouquet as if it were a bad joke.

“Did you come to buy my forgiveness?” he asked.

“How did you used to buy everything else?”

At that moment, an old man came up the dirt path carrying a bucket of water.

He nodded towards Emily.

“Is everything alright, Miss Emily?”

“Everything’s fine, Mr. Harris,” she replied gently. “Just an old visitor.”

When the neighbor left, she sighed and stepped aside.

“Come in,” he said. “Before the whole town starts gossiping.”

The interior of the house hit Daniel like a second impact.

A single small room served as both kitchen and living room. An old fan sluggishly rotated near the ceiling. The furniture was mismatched and worn.

But everything was clean.

Tidy.

Worthy.

“Sit down,” Emily said, pointing to a plastic chair.

Daniel sat stiffly, looking around in disbelief.

“How did you end up like this?” she asked in a low voice.

Emily looked him straight in the eyes.

“Do you really want to know?” he asked.

“Or do you just want to feel less guilty?”

He opened his mouth to reply, but she continued.

“After you kicked me out, I tried to start over. I sold my jewelry. I rented a tiny apartment. I looked for a job.”

He paused.

“Do you know what I found?”

“Closed doors.”