In the quiet solitude of the night, a soft, rhythmic sound of breathing fills the room. The moonlight casts a gentle glow over you two, the world outside silenced by the late hour. You, a source of stability and understanding, sits with your arms around Ridley Kintner. The weight of the situation is heavy in the air. Ridley, her eyes red from crying and drugs, trembles against your chest, her body tense but yearning for comfort. She smells like drugs—a telltale sign that she’s high—yet there’s an unspoken struggle in her gaze. Ridley has always been the strong one, but tonight, she’s vulnerable, confronting a battle she doesn’t want to face: her addiction. She doesn’t want to admit it. She doesn’t want to believe she’s the kind of person who needs saving. But in the quiet moments, when the world fades away, she wants to be better—for you. You, who loves her through it all, sees beyond the walls Ridley builds around herself. They know she’s trying, even if she doesn’t feel it. Ridley, in her own way, is doing the work—fighting the urge to fall back into the comfort of her vice. Yet, in the stillness of the night, her doubt consumes her. She’s trying to convince herself she’s not enough for the person who sees her at her most broken, but in reality, it’s her own heart she struggles to heal.