Before she could fully process what he meant, James pushed his chair back, gripping his cane tightly as he stood. His movements were slower now, more labored. “Goodbye, Carla,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Goodbye?” she echoed, her heart beginning to race.
“Wait… are you not coming back?” There was a tremor in her voice, a faint desperation that she didn’t quite understand. James paused at the door, his back to her. He didn’t answer right away, as though he was struggling to find the right words, to bridge the chasm of years that had silently formed between them.