“You hurt Lucy too.”

His voice cracked. “I know.”

Rebecca looked around the apartment — the mismatched chairs, the patched ceiling, the tools arranged with care, the home where she’d learned what warmth felt like.

“I didn’t fall in love with a poor man,” she said. Matthew’s breath caught. “I fell in love with the father who traded sandwiches because his daughter hated the burnt corner.

I fell in love with the man who cooked soup for a woman who insulted him. I fell in love with the person who understood that the strongest part of a structure is often invisible.”

She stepped closer. “But I cannot love an invisible man forever.”