To Forgive or Not

ARYA’S POV I stood in front of my bedroom mirror, the midnight blue dress flowing around me like water. My hair was still loose around my shoulders, and I couldn't decide what to do with it. A soft knock echoed at the door. "Arya? May I come in?" "Yes, Mom." She entered, already dressed in a beautiful champagne-colored gown, her hair swept up in a chignon. "You look beautiful," she said, coming to stand behind me. "But your hair… here, let me help." Her hands were gentle as she ran her fingers through my hair, arranging it so it fell in soft waves over my shoulders. "You should keep it like this," she said decisively. "It looks lovely down." I watched her in the mirror, remembering all the times she had done this when I was younger. "Are you sure about this?" she asked quietly, her hands still smoothing my hair. "We can still stay home. No one would think less of you." I shook my head. "I need to do this. Dr. Rossi says avoiding Giovanni isn't helping me heal.” A sigh left my throa