They walked through the gallery slowly, like neither could believe the other was really there.

Daniel told her he'd been painting again, something he hadn't done in years. After the fallout, he moved out of his house, started teaching part-time at a community college outside the city. Quiet work. A quieter life.

"I thought I'd never see you again," he said.

"I wasn't sure I wanted to," Elena admitted, honest and raw.

They sat on a bench near the back, surrounded by strangers and soft music. It wasn't like before - this wasn't stolen or frantic. It was careful. Still a little broken. But real.

"Do you regret it?" she asked finally.

He looked at her, and the pain in his eyes was familiar. "No. I regret hurting people. I regret not being stronger. But I don't regret loving you."

Tears welled in her eyes. She'd carried that question for so long.

They left the gallery together. Walked through the city in silence, the rain misting around them, gentle and cool.

And when he took her hand, she didn't let go.