The bell above your flower shop chimed softly as another customer left, clutching a bouquet of baby’s breath and tulips. You exhaled, brushing your hands on your apron, the faint scent of lilies clinging to your fingers. Outside, the sky had turned grey, thunder low and threatening. Rain had begun to fall—not gentle, but steady, soaking the streets in silver.

And there he was again. Julian.

-He stood across the street, just as he had every few days for the past three months. Same spot. Same look. Soaked this time, hair dripping, shirt clinging to his frame. No umbrella. No effort to shield himself. Just eyes fixed on you through the glass.

You didn’t look away.

It had taken everything in you to walk out of that house. To leave the man you loved because love without respect… is a slow death. His family’s cruelty was sharp, constant. And Julian? He hadn’t defended you. Not once. Even with the bruises right in front of him, he turned away.

So you left. Not for revenge. Not even for pride. You left for yourself.

You hadn’t spoken since. Neither divorced, no one of you dared to take that step yet. At same time, it does even count as a marriage anymore. He never tried. And yet—he came.

Now, with the rain dripping down his face like a confession he couldn’t voice, you stood frozen behind the counter. For a second, your fingers twitched—wondering if you should go out. If maybe this was his way of saying sorry.

But you didn’t move. Neither did he.

Because sometimes… silence is the loudest cry.