**The Bridge**

**1970s:**

Thomas had never raised his voice at Lila. They were high school sweethearts, bound together by the gentle rhythms of their small town. But that evening, as the late summer sun dipped behind the hills, something inside him snapped.

"I can't believe you're so blind!" he yelled, the words harsh, alien on his tongue. Lila flinched, her eyes wide with shock. They had been arguing about something trivial—maybe the way she had forgotten to pick up his dry cleaning. It didn’t matter. The weight of his words hung between them like a curse, a fracture in the seamless connection they had always shared.

Thomas felt a cold rush of regret, but the damage was done. Lila turned away, her silence more painful than any reply.

**1980s:**

They moved to the city, seeking new opportunities, but the past lingered like a shadow. Thomas had apologized countless times, showering Lila with flowers, whispered promises, and soft kisses. Yet, every time they argued, he saw the ghost of that day in her eyes.

One night, after a particularly exhausting day at work, Thomas came home to find Lila waiting for him with dinner. But something was off—the way she avoided his gaze, the tremble in her hands. "Lila, what’s wrong?"

She hesitated, then finally whispered, "Do you remember what you said to me? That night, years ago?"

Thomas froze. He had hoped she had forgotten, that time had healed the wound. "I was angry," he said, his voice thick with guilt. "I didn’t mean it."

"I know," she replied, her voice soft but firm. "But words, they have a way of sticking. Of lingering."

**1990s:**

Life became a routine. They had children now, who filled the house with laughter and chaos. But in the quiet moments, when the kids were asleep, Thomas would catch Lila staring out the window, lost in thought. He knew she was still haunted by that moment—by the way he had lost control.

One evening, after the kids had gone to bed, Thomas took her hand. "Lila," he said quietly, "I’ve spent years trying to make up for what I said. I don’t know if I can ever fix it, but I want you to know I love you. I always have."

She looked at him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "It’s not about fixing it, Thomas. It’s about understanding that we’re human. That we hurt the ones we love, sometimes without meaning to. But I never doubted your love, not even for a second."

**2000s:**

Their children were grown, and the house that once seemed so full now felt too large, too empty. Thomas and Lila had grown old together, their love weathered but strong. They often sat on the porch in silence, watching the world go by.

One crisp autumn day, as they watched the leaves fall, Lila reached over and took Thomas’s hand. "Do you remember that fight we had, all those years ago?"

Thomas nodded, his heart heavy with the memory. "I’ll never forget it."

"Neither will I," Lila said softly. "But I’ve realized something over the years. It wasn’t the words that hurt me. It was the fear that you didn’t love me enough to be kind."

Thomas squeezed her hand, his voice trembling as he replied, "Lila, I’ve always loved you. More than anything."

"I know," she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder. "And that’s what matters."

**2010s:**

They moved into a smaller home, a cozy cottage near the river. Their days were filled with the simple pleasures of retirement—gardening, reading, and visits from their grandchildren. Time had softened the edges of their past, turning sharp memories into gentle reflections.

One evening, as they sat by the fire, Lila spoke. "Thomas, I want you to know—I’ve forgiven you, a long time ago. And I’ve forgiven myself for holding on to it for so long."

Thomas felt tears prick at his eyes. "I don’t deserve you," he whispered.

She smiled, her face lined with age but still radiant with love. "We deserve each other. That’s why we’re still here, together."

**2020s:**

Lila passed away peacefully in her sleep one night, leaving Thomas with a heart full of memories. He missed her every day, her absence a constant ache. But when he thought back to that moment, so many decades ago, he no longer felt the sting of regret. Instead, he remembered the lifetime they had shared, the love that had endured.

In the end, it wasn’t the words that defined their relationship, but the way they had learned to forgive, to hold on to each other through the years.

And as Thomas sat by her grave, whispering his love into the wind, he knew that Lila had always understood that too.