CHOSEN
RORIE
My phone buzzeson the nightstand.
I messed up.
I said I needed time, but what I needed was you.
The real you.
The one who made me laugh when I couldn’t breathe.
The one who saw past every defense and stayed anyway.
I see you now, Rorie. All of you.
And I’m sorry it took me this long to realize.
Another buzz.
I’m outside your door. Not to argue. Not to demand. Just to show up. For real this time.
My chest caves in on itself.
I rush to the door. He’s there, same gray shirt, same dark eyes, but everything else is different. Softer. Clearer.
He holds up his phone. The photo I sent him earlier—us, standing by the ocean, sun melting into the sky—is now his contact picture.Textually Frustrated.
No longer anonymous. No longer a secret.
He puts the phone away and says, “I want to remember the moment before I knew. Before the guilt. Before the noise. Just… us.”
I’m not breathing. I don’t think I know how to anymore.
“I thought you hated me,” I whisper.
He steps forward, slow, and intentional. “I hate that I hurt you. I hate that I didn’t make you feel safe enough to tell me. That’s on me. Not you.”
My eyes sting. “No?—”
“I just—” He stops himself, the space between his brows pinching. “You didn’t just get under my skin, Rorie. You became the reason it felt like I had any at all. Everything felt numb until you started texting me. And then I couldn’t stop needing more of you.”
My heart cracks open. The light inside seeps through.
“Rorie, you made me feel…everything.” Slowly, reverently—he closes the distance.
His hands cup my face, thumbs brush my cheekbones, and his eyes are on me like I’m the only star in the entire sky.
No heat. No rage. No roughness.
“Let me make this right,” he breathes, so close I can taste the confession in his voice.
“I should’ve told you.” My voice shakes.
“Shhh…” He leans in, forehead pressing to mine. He doesn’t kiss me yet. Instead, he lets his hands slide down, featherlight, across my shoulders, down my arms, until they settle at my waist.
“Adams,” he says softly. “I don’t want fast, or frantic, or furious. I want to learn you. I want to commit every shiver and sigh to memory until I can rewrite the definition of love for you.”
