The note read: 22 missed calls. All from the same number. Tiffany.

I sank onto the edge of the bed, the phone heavy in my hand as I contemplated calling back. Our last conversation had been a turning point, not just for me, but for our relationship. The ball was in her court now. Would she see Harry’s true colors? Would she understand the boundaries I needed to set?

In the end, I dialed the number, prepared to listen, ready to forgive—but not to return to the same dynamics. It was time for a new chapter, one where respect and love could coexist without compromise. The line clicked open, and I took a steadying breath, ready for whatever came next.