"We're more alike than either of us wanted to admit." Eleanor's smile was wry despite her weakness. "Both too proud, too stubborn to bend."
They talked for nearly an hour—really talked, perhaps for the first time in their adult relationship. About Valentina's marriage, about Eleanor's regrets, about the walls they'd both built that had kept them apart.
Not everything was resolved. Some hurts ran too deep for a deathbed reconciliation to fully heal. But something shifted between them, a heaviness lifting that Valentina hadn't realized she'd been carrying.
"The Reynolds boy," Eleanor said as Valentina prepared to let her rest. "You love him?"
"I do." No hesitation now, no shame in admitting it. "Always have."
"And he loves you."
"Yes."
Eleanor nodded, eyes drifting closed with fatigue
