“You didn’t cause her pain,” she told him firmly. “But you’re punishing yourself for it.”
Little by little Ethan began eating more. He opened the curtains again. He stepped outside onto the balcony.
One evening Mary suggested something.
“Write her a letter,” she said.
He did.
That night, standing in the garden beneath the stars, Ethan burned the letter.
“I love you,” he whispered to the flames. “But I have to keep living.”
It was the beginning of his recovery.
Gradually he started speaking with his father again. One afternoon Nathaniel joined him on the terrace with two cups of coffee.
Neither of them said much.
They simply sat together and cried.
The entire house slowly changed. Even Gloria eventually admitted she had been jealous of Mary’s connection with Ethan—and confessed that she herself had lost a brother to suicide years earlier.
Six months later Ethan organized a photography exhibition in Lily’s memory.
A year after Mary first arrived, he told her quietly, “You saved my life.”
Mary shook her head.
“No,” she replied. “You chose to stay alive. I just stayed beside you.”