Run: 2026-03-06-01KK1GFTXGDBP680AKWCQBWEX6

The door creaked open, a thin slice of light spilling onto the worn wooden floor. Aurora's eyes flicked to the silhouette standing in the hallway, a figure she hadn't expected to see after a week of silence. Lucien's coat draped his shoulders, charcoal against the dim glow. His silver hair, slicked back, caught the light, making it look like a halo. One eye burned amber, the other a deep black, both rimmed with the faintest hint of smirk. The ivory-handled cane rested against his thigh, its blade hidden beneath the elegant sleeve of his tailored suit. He stepped inside, the cane thudding softly on the floor. "Sorry to bar in like this," he said, his voice low, carrying a hint of old charm. "Thought I’d drop by to see how the research notes are shaping up." Aurora turned, her hand brushing the crescent scar on her left wrist as if to steady herself. "Lucien," she said, the name tasting like a secret. "I didn’t expect to see you." He smiled, a quick flash of amber that made her heart skip. "You’re still as sharp as ever," he replied, his eyes scanning the cluttered room. "Books, scrolls, research notes—looks like you’ve got a new obsession." She gestured to the stack of papers on the coffee table. "It’s a mess," she admitted, her voice catching slightly. "I’m trying to keep up with the legal briefs and the supernatural cases." He stepped closer, the cane tapping against the floor in a steady rhythm. "You always had a knack for balancing the two worlds," he said, his tone teasing but genuine. "But why the sudden burst of interest in the occult?" Her gaze flicked to the window, where the city lights flickered like distant stars. "It’s… complicated," she said, her words heavy with unspoken weight. "I thought I could put it behind me, but it keeps pulling me back." Lucien’s eyes softened. He reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You don’t have to face it alone," he said, his voice steady. "I’m here, if you need someone to talk to." She stared at his hand, feeling the faint tremor of his grip. "I don’t know if I’m ready," she whispered, her breath shallow. "We said we’d never meet again." He leaned in, the cane now resting against the wall. "We didn’t say that," he said, his eyes locking with hers. "We said we’d let time heal the wounds." The air between them thickened, charged with the electricity of old feelings resurfacing. He lifted his cane, revealing the thin blade, flicking it harmlessly against the floor. "We could try to find a new path," he said, his voice low. "One that doesn’t involve the past." She swallowed, the scar on her wrist pulsing faintly. "I don’t know if I can trust again," she said, her voice barely audible. "You left without a word." He stared at the scar, his eyes flicking to the small crescent shape. "I didn’t mean to hurt you," he said, his voice earnest. "I was scared, and I thought leaving was the only way to protect us." She looked at him, seeing the vulnerability in his amber eye. "You scared yourself," she said, her voice firm. "You scared me too." He nodded, the cane clinking against the floor. "I know," he said, his eyes flicking to the window. "I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately." She clenched her fists, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I’ve been thinking about you too," she said, her voice raw. "But we can’t keep living in the past." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She looked at him, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the can now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She opened her eyes, the scar on her wrist throbbing. "I don’t know if I can let go," she said, her voice raw. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He stepped back, the cane now resting against the wall. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m asking you to remember what we had, and what we could still have." She stared at him, the scar on her wrist pulsing. "I don’t know if I can do that," she said, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I can trust again." He placed a hand on her cheek, his touch warm. "You can," he said, his voice steady. "You just have to let go of the fear." She closed her eyes, feeling the scar on her wrist throb. "I don’t know if I can let go," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know if I can trust again."