Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTR6A5RQQGRXRQB5CJY0K4G

The door of The Raven's Nest creaked open, and a gust of cold London wind followed Aurora Carter inside. She shook off her coat, revealing her straight, shoulder-length black hair and bright blue eyes. The bar was dimly lit, the walls adorned with old maps and black-and-white photographs. The distinctive green neon sign above the entrance cast an eerie glow inside. She scanned the room, her gaze landing on Silas Blackwood behind the bar. He gave her a nod, his hazel eyes twinkling with recognition. Rory made her way to the bar, the scent of old wood and faint whisky enveloping her. "Silas," she greeted, her voice steady. "How’s business?" "Slow night," he replied, polishing a glass. "But you know how it goes. What can I get you?" "Just a water, thanks." He placed the glass in front of her, and she took a sip, her eyes lingering on the room. It was a place she found comfort in, a steady anchor in her ever-shifting life. She was about to turn away when a familiar figure caught her eye. Sitting at a corner table, shoulders hunched, was a man she hadn't seen in years—Evan, her ex. Her heart skipped a beat, and she felt a pang of unease. She hadn't seen him since she fled Cardiff, leaving behind the abuse and the lies. She forced herself to take a deep breath, pushing down the memories that threatened to overwhelm her. Evan looked up, his eyes locking with hers. For a moment, the world seemed to pause. Then, he stood, his movements slow and deliberate. He approached the bar, his eyes never leaving hers. "Rory," he said, his voice low and gentle, as if trying to summon a memory. She turned to face him, her expression unreadable. "Evan," she acknowledged, her voice cool and detached. He leaned against the bar, his face drawn and tired. "It’s been a long time." "Too long," she replied, her words laced with a hint of bitterness. "What are you doing here?" "Just passing through. I heard Silas runs a place here. Thought I’d check it out." Silas, sensing the tension, stepped back, giving them a moment of privacy. Rory’s eyes flicked to the bar owner, a silent thank you. She turned her attention back to Evan, her mind racing. She had moved on, built a new life in London, but seeing him brought it all back—the fear, the pain, the regret. "You look well," Evan said, breaking the silence. "Better than I remember." She raised an eyebrow. "You were never one to notice much, Evan. How’s Cardiff?" "Same as ever. I moved back. Started a new job. Trying to turn things around." Rory took another sip of water, her hand steady. "That’s good to hear," she said, her tone devoid of any real emotion. "I’m glad you found your way." He shifted uncomfortably. "I wanted to say... I’m sorry. For everything." The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken weight. Rory’s eyes narrowed, a mix of curiosity and skepticism. "Sorry doesn’t fix what you did. It doesn’t make the bruises go away or the nights I spent crying myself to sleep disappear." Evan’s face fell, and he looked genuinely remorseful. "I know. I can’t change the past. But I can try to make it right. I’ve been thinking a lot about what I did, and I’m not proud of it. I’ve been seeing a therapist, trying to understand why I was such a monster to you." Rory’s expression softened slightly, but the walls she had built remained intact. "It’s good that you’re taking responsibility. But it’s a long road, and it’s not just about you. It’s about the people you hurt." He nodded, his eyes meeting hers. "I understand. I just wanted you to know that I’m trying." She sighed, the tension in her shoulders easing a bit. "I appreciate that. But for me, it’s not about forgiveness. It’s about moving on. I’ve built a new life here, and I’m happy. That’s what I need to focus on." Evan nodded, his face a mix of relief and regret. "I get it. I just wanted to see you, to make sure you’re doing okay. You deserve better, Rory. You always did." She forced a small smile. "Thanks, Evan. I’m doing better than I ever thought I would. And you should keep working on yourself. It’s never too late to be a better person." He nodded, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "I’ll do that. Take care, Rory." She watched as he walked away, the weight of their shared past still lingering. She took a deep breath, the air in the bar feeling a little lighter. She turned to Silas, who had been watching the exchange with a thoughtful expression. "You okay?" he asked, his voice gentle. "Yeah," she replied, her voice steady. "Just unexpected. But I’m good." Silas nodded, understanding. "He seemed sincere." "He was. But it’s not my job to fix him. It’s his." Silas raised his glass in a silent toast. "To new beginnings and old friends," he said, his eyes warm. "To that," Rory agreed, clinking her glass against his. She took another sip of water, the tension in her muscles finally beginning to release. The past was a part of her, but it no longer defined her. She was Rory Carter, and she was building a life she could be proud of, one day at a time.