The silence that followed was heavier than shouting. He opened his mouth to apologize, but she’d already turned away, her new life walking beside her like armor. He stood there, unmoving, the apology dissolving before it reached the air.
He watched her leave, sunlight spilling through the glass doors as she disappeared into it. For a moment, he thought of calling her name, but the years pressed a hand over his mouth. Some ghosts, he realized, don’t vanish. They just stop waiting to be found.