The question hung in the air, the weight of past grievances pulling at the fragile threads of hope that Bright had tried to weave.
Bright's hopeful smile waned into a pained expression, grappling with the harsh reality of his absence during Emma's struggles.
He knew he was in the wrong. Any excuses would sound like nonsense to Emma's ears. So, he could only offer a bitter smile.
"It's too late, Bright," her words, a whispered decree, "The Emma you loved, a ghost, never to be."
Another tear escaped, and Emma swiftly brushed it away.
"Let's return home promptly, Your Highness. The night is growing darker," Emma reiterated, her words laced with a mixture of formality and subtle emotion.
In the silence that followed, the weight of unspoken words hung in the air, a poignant evidence of the intricacies that defined their relationship.
*