Lena's heart squeezed, overwhelmed by sadness.
This continued for the next few days.
Chris would visit while she slept and quietly leave as she woke up. He would bring a different meal daily, and the house would always be spotless, instantly lifting her spirits. He had been doing everything without disturbing her.
Then, one day, he made pizza. Thinly sliced pepperoni, the perfect temperature—it melted in her mouth. Tears flowed uncontrollably, breaking the barrier she had erected.
She rushed in and immediately saw Chris upon opening the door. She wanted to call out, but her throat felt blocked. Her mouth opened, but no sound emerged.
However, he halted and turned slowly. When their eyes met, he smiled gently.
Lena ran to him, crying, and hugged him tightly.
"It's okay, Lena," he said, patting her head. "It's all over now. You have me. You don't need to be afraid."
All she could do was cry. He allowed her to release her pent-up emotions, understanding she had held onto too much.
He took her shoulders and guided her back into the house when her tears finally subsided. They lay on the sofa, and she remained in his embrace, unwilling to be separated like a lazy kitten.
Finally, she mustered the courage to share her past with him.
After narrating her story, she kept her head down. The house grew quiet, and her racing heart was the only source of sound.
Chris said, holding her hands, "So, did you hit me that time because of those memories?"
"Mm-hmm."
Chris paused for a moment before speaking softly. "Lena, I didn't mind what happened. I just felt sorry for you."
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