"I can't be what you need," Victoria whispered, her heart aching with the truth.
They stood in the silence for a long moment, the ghost of their past stretching between them. "Are you happy?" he asked. "I'm moving forward," she said carefully. "And you?" No Me Quieres, No Te Quiero Victoria Vilchez ...
"We were good together, Liam," she said softly. "But we’re better apart." "I can't be what you need," Victoria whispered,
"I bought the house," he said, a small, sad smile touching his lips. "It’s exactly what I wanted. But it’s very quiet." "I'm moving forward," she said carefully
Victoria looked at the lighthouse in the painting, its beam cutting through the dark. "No," she lied, her voice steady even as her heart fractured one last time. "I don't."
He nodded, the understanding settling between them like a final curtain. "You don't love me anymore, do you?"
The old pull was there—the urge to reach out, to bridge the gap, to try one more time. But then she remembered the exhaustion of their final months, the way they had tried to whittle themselves down to fit into each other's lives.