Henry broke up with her for five days but then he came back to her on one knee, with a question, and a ring, and a skywriter. As far as grand gestures went, this was as grand as he could manage. For Elizabeth, it wasn't enough. It wasn't the point.
"I can't be with someone who can't be there for the hard things," she said, crying as she said it. "If I can't rely on you to stick it out with me, then…"
"Elizabeth–" he said, looking terrified as she barreled on.
"–there's no point." It hurt to say. She wondered if anything had ever hurt her so badly since the loss of her parents, and didn't think so. But if that tragedy had taught her anything, it was how to protect herself.
And now two decades have passed and they're staring at each other from opposite sides of the Sit Room and he looks just as handsome as the day they met, all those years ago in Monroe Hall. She still feels the same butterflies, and can't help but wonder if she'd made the right choice.
After, everyone in the room begins to disperse and she takes her time putting her files back into her bag. She gives herself time to decide how she wants to proceed. Henry takes the choice out of her hands when he falls into step with her as she makes her exit.
"It's been a long time," he says. "You look good."
"You too, Henry."
"Can I buy you a coffee?"
She smiles. "I'd like that."