Maybe that's what love really is.
Not two identical hearts beating in perfect rhythm, but two different kinds of broken finding a way to fit together.
Her openness doesn't make sense with my caution.
My darkness shouldn't complement her light.
But it does.
Somehow, it does.
The sun has dropped lower while I've been lost in my thoughts, painting the water in shades of amber and rust.The light catches on the ripples, fracturing into a thousand tiny mirrors that dance and disappear.There's something almost violent about the beauty of it—the way the sky bleeds color across the horizon before surrendering to darkness.
Like the day is putting on one last show before it dies.
I always preferred sunrises to sunsets.
Maybe because it's the start of a new day, filled with hope rather than the slow death of another twenty-four hours.But standing here now, watching the sky turn from gold to deep purple, I think maybe I've been looking at it all wrong.
Maybe there's something beautiful in the ending too—in the way light fights against the dark before letting go.Maybe sunsets aren't about death at all, but about the promise that even when everything falls apart, there's still tomorrow waiting on the other side.
I hear footsteps on the dock behind me and I don't have to turn around to know it's her—I'd recognize the way she walks anywhere.
The slight hesitation before each step when she's thinking, the way she favors her left foot just barely since she broke her ankle, climbing a tree that one summer.
When I finally do turn, she's closer than I expected.
Close enough that I can see the careful composure on her face, the way she's holding herself together like she's made of glass and one wrong move might shatter everything.
She looks calm.
And that scares me more than if she'd come here screaming.I'd almost prefer she did that.
"Hi," she says quietly, stopping a few feet away.
My voice comes out low, controlled.“Nora, I—what I said was out of line.”
Her breath stutters.Just barely.
“It was.”
The honesty is sharper than anger.
“I shouldn’t have—” I swallow.“You didn’t deserve any of that.”
She steps closer, her eyes searching mine like she’s looking for something she’s scared she won’t find.
“You shut me out,” she says quietly.“You didn’t even ask.”
“I know.”It comes out hoarse.“I know.”
I drag a hand to the back of my neck.I can’t look at her because the truth is too close.
“I was a complete fucking asshole.”
“Yeah, you were.”She says, but there’s no heat, no judgment, just fact.
“I saw the flowers and the card.And it just—” I shake my head.
