Chapter 3: Confronting the Past

The ringing of the phone seemed to echo in Lena's ears, each second stretching longer than the last. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest, each beat a reminder of the decision she had just made. She had called him. She had dialed his number, breaking the silence between them for the first time in years. But now that it was happening, she wasn't sure she was ready.

The familiar voice on the other end pulled her out of her thoughts.

"Lena?"

It was Ethan. His voice was low, almost hesitant, as though he had been waiting for this moment too. The sound of his voice sent a tremor through her, like a jolt of electricity that ran through her veins. It had been so long since she had heard him say her name. She had spent so much time trying to erase the sound of it from her mind, but now it came flooding back, carrying with it memories of all the good and the bad, the joy and the heartbreak.

Lena swallowed, trying to steady herself. Her hands were clammy, her throat tight, but she couldn't back out now. She had come this far, and she had to see it through.

"Ethan," she said, her voice sounding steadier than she felt. "We need to talk."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, a moment where neither of them spoke. The silence was heavy, almost unbearable, as if both of them were weighing the implications of what had been said. What did she want? What were they about to do?

"Yeah, I know," he finally replied, his voice soft. "I've been thinking about this too. A lot, actually. I wasn't sure if you'd ever want to talk to me again."

The honesty in his voice hit her like a punch to the gut. Ethan had always been truthful with her, in his own way, even when it hurt. And it hurt now, more than she could have expected. Hearing him admit that he hadn't thought she'd ever reach out—well, it was a reminder of how much had changed between them. Of how far they had drifted. Of how broken they both were by the end.

"I didn't know if I was ready to talk either," Lena confessed, her voice faltering slightly. "But I… I can't keep pretending that this is over. That it doesn't matter."

There was another pause, but this time, it wasn't as awkward. It was as if they both knew that the moment of confrontation had arrived. They couldn't keep avoiding it. Not anymore.

"Yeah," Ethan said softly. "It matters. It always has, hasn't it?"

Lena closed her eyes, her thoughts swirling. She thought about all the moments they had shared, the plans they had made, the future they had imagined together. How could something so real, so full of promise, have turned into nothing more than a distant memory? She had loved him with everything she had, and even now, the pieces of that love still clung to her heart, refusing to be let go.

"It's hard," Lena admitted, her voice cracking with emotion. "It's hard because I don't know what I'm supposed to feel anymore. I don't know if I'm supposed to be angry, or sad, or… what."

There was a soft sigh on the other end of the line, followed by the sound of Ethan shifting in his seat, perhaps leaning back as if preparing for the difficult conversation ahead.

"I get it," he said, his voice low and understanding. "I don't know if I have the right to say this, but I've never stopped thinking about you, Lena. Not really. Not the way I should have. And I know it's too late to fix things, but I… I'm sorry. For everything."

Lena's breath caught in her throat at the words. She had always wondered if he regretted it. If he ever felt the weight of the decision he had made to walk away, to leave her behind. But hearing him say it, hearing the sincerity in his voice, felt like a punch to the gut. Because no matter how much he apologized, no matter how sorry he was, the truth remained—everything had already been broken.

But maybe, just maybe, they could fix it. Or at least find some way to heal.

"I don't know if I can forgive you for how everything ended," Lena said quietly, the words slipping out before she could stop them. "I don't know if I ever will. But I don't want to keep living in the past anymore. I can't keep holding on to the way things were."

Ethan was silent for a moment. It wasn't the uncomfortable silence that had hung between them before, but one filled with understanding. He seemed to be processing her words, weighing them carefully, as if considering how to respond to the truth she had just shared.

"I don't expect you to forgive me," he said finally. "Not right away. Hell, I don't even know if I deserve it. But I'm willing to try. I'm willing to try to make things right. Even if it's just between us. Even if it's just… talking."

The vulnerability in his voice was almost more than Lena could bear. She had spent years trying to convince herself that she didn't need him, that she didn't need any of the pieces of their past. But now, hearing him, feeling the rawness of his words, she wasn't so sure anymore. She didn't know if it was hope or foolishness, but something stirred inside her—a flicker of the love she thought had died.

"I don't know if we can go back," Lena said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe it's too late for us. Maybe we were never meant to be. But I can't pretend it doesn't matter."

"I don't want to go back," Ethan replied, his voice firm. "I don't want to try to recreate what we had. But I do want to move forward. If you're willing, we can figure out what that looks like together. We don't have to fix everything, but maybe we can try to heal."

Lena felt a wave of emotion crash over her, something deep and untamable, like a river flowing toward the sea. She didn't know if it was possible to heal all the wounds they had inflicted on each other. She didn't know if they could truly find peace after everything that had happened. But at that moment, she realized that she couldn't keep running away from the past. She couldn't keep pretending that it didn't matter.

Maybe they didn't need to fix everything. Maybe they just needed to start somewhere. To find a way to live with the pieces of their broken love, to accept that some things would never be perfect.

"I don't know where this will go," Lena said, her voice thick with emotion. "But I'm willing to try. For us. For me. I don't want to keep carrying this weight on my own anymore."

A soft exhale of relief came from the other end of the line. "Neither do I, Lena. Neither do I."

Lena sat there for a moment, the weight of their conversation hanging in the air, both heavy and freeing at the same time. It wasn't the perfect closure she had imagined. There were no neat answers, no tidy resolutions. But in that moment, she realized that maybe it was okay to leave some things unfinished. Maybe it was okay to walk forward without all the answers.

For the first time in years, Lena allowed herself to hope.