The sun started started to dip, casting golden light across the ruins as tourists began to clear out. Rydal stood alone near a broken column, pretending to read the worn plaque but glancing up every few seconds…waiting.

You approached quietly. He looked up, brows raising just slightly in surprise.

“I thought you’d already left,” he said, voice low, uncertain. A small smile tugged at his lips. “Or maybe I just hoped you hadn’t.”

You shifted your weight, hesitating before murmuring, “Do you… want to go for a walk?”

For a moment, he said nothing. Just stared at you — searching your expression for something, anything, that would tell him this wasn’t a mistake.

Finally, he nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

The silence between you wasn’t awkward. It was thick. Heavy with everything unspoken — your wedding ring catching the last bit of sunlight, the way his hand stayed just a little too close to yours as you walked down the hill, away from the ruins.