Carla looked down at the envelope, puzzled. “What’s this?” she asked, her brow furrowing as curiosity mingled with concern. The envelope seemed oddly out of place in the warm glow of the pub, heavy with an unspoken significance.
James gave her a smile—one that was far from the jovial expressions she had seen in passing customers. His was a smile weighed down by years of silence, memories, and regret. “Just… something I should’ve done a long time ago,” he said.