I said nothing.
“He believed men had to be respected.”
There was something in his voice.
A memory.
An old wound.
For a moment, I wondered if there was a part of him that truly wanted to change.
“My father was never gentle,” Julian continued. “I promised myself I would never become him.”
“And yet?”
He looked away.
“I lost control.”
I nodded.
“That’s true.”
He looked surprised that I agreed.
“But losing control explains what happened,” I said. “It doesn’t excuse it.”
His expression became unreadable.
“You’re saying you can’t forgive me?”
“I’m saying forgiveness doesn’t erase consequences.”
The silence between us felt heavier than any argument.
Then Julian reached into his pocket.
“I found something.”
He pulled out a small envelope.
I recognized it immediately.
My heart stopped.
That envelope belonged to me.
I had kept it hidden among my old documents.
