Page 25 of The Guardian

“Ye have never stopped loving her. Have given way to the belief that one day ye and her will be together. Sometimes, my friend, certain things are nae meant to be. It may be time ye accept it.”

Hendry let out a quiet, humorless laugh. “I dinnae think I have any option but to move forward. I have wasted too many years pining over a woman who didnae believe in me.”

Liam offered the ghost of a smile but said nothing more.

The room settled again. Still no fire. Just the bitter cold creeping in, and the shared silence of two men who understood pain better than they should.

After a long stretch, Liam rose and walked to the hearth. He hesitated, then quietly struck flint to steel and sparked a flame to life.

Hendry didn’t stop him.

The fire began to glow, casting flickers of amber light across the stone walls. Shadows danced across Liam’s face, softening the hard lines carved by years of battles and the hardship of a warrior’s life.

After a moment, his friend took a few steps, lingered at the door, then turned back. “Get some rest, Hendry. Even if it’s the kind that only whiskey grants. We will head to the village directly after first meal.”

With that, his friend walked out, the sound of the door closing seeming loud.

And Hendry remained, staring into the growing flame.

He didn’t cry. Men like him had long since spent their tears.

But deep within himself, something cracked.