Trust doesn’t return with apologies.It comes barefoot, hesitant like someone knocking but already ready to run.The city hadn’t changed.Same streets. Same noise. Same sky.But they had.She sat by the window, knees pulled close, phone silent for once. No headlines screaming her name. No flashes. Just the low hum of the fan and the weight in her chest that hadn’t learned how to leave yet.Adrian stood across the room.Not too close.Not too far.That distance said everything words couldn’t.Earlier, he would’ve crossed the room in two steps.Now, he waited—like he was afraid even air between them could crack again.“Coffee?” he asked softly.She