Six years, and relief is the wrong word for what Addie feels at the sight of him, and yet, it is the closest one. The sensation of a weight set down, a breath expelled, a body sighing in relief. There is no pleasure in it, beyond the simple, physical release—the relief of trading the unknown for the certain.
Like this is the only thing that sort of reads like she doesn't love Luc. But—also—she's lying to herself because she previously described the sight of him as like "coming up for air". This is a THEME.
