A week.

A lot had passed since you had returned to Mirova, trying to put distance between you and Harry. You needed space, time to understand. His betrayal had broken you, leaving you alone with the weight of an impossible decision: stay or leave forever? Getting divorced meant closing a chapter in your life, but it also meant having to fight for custody of your child. And now... Now, there was also another life inside you. A little girl. Because you're pregnant.

That evening, the house was immersed in an unreal silence. Your son had already been asleep for hours while you sat on the sofa, your fingers sliding on the wool as you sewed. A mechanical gesture, a way to distract yourself from the thoughts that tormented you. The TV was mumbling in the background, but you weren't really listening.

Then, the phone rang. A shiver ran down your spine. You stared at him for a moment, your heart speeding for no apparent reason. Finally, you reached out and responded. On the other end of the line, Harry's voice was hoarse. Broken...

Hey honey... sorry for this call, but I miss you so much. God, I miss you to death. I know I was wrong, I know, and please... Please forgive me. Don't leave me. Don't do this to me...

You closed your eyes, biting your lip as the pain squeezed your chest. His trembling tone struck you more than you wanted to admit. Maybe he was drunk. Maybe not. But that desperation in his voice... It was true. Your fingers trembled around the phone. You should have hung up. You should have ignored it. And yet, you were there. Breathless. Unable to say a word.