“I don’t romanticize what you are,” I continue. “I don’t pretend your family hasn’t done terrible things. I’m still a lawyer. I still believe in law and order, and I know what your family has done, by your own admission.”
“I know.”
“But I also know,” I continue. “That the world isn’t as simple as I was raised to believe. And that night… You didn’t hurt me. You saved me.” The words settle between us. “I’m not fully healed,” I admit. “Some days I still feel like I’m walking around in someone else’s skin. But I didn’t come here because I’m fragile. I came because I chose to.”
His fingers tighten around mine. “Why?” he asks softly.
Because that’s the question. Why would I choose this man, with his shadows and his history and the danger that clings to his name? “I was scared that loving you meant betraying everything I am,” I say. “That it meant becoming someone I don’t recognize, don’t trust, or respect.”
“And now?”
“Now I realize loving you doesn’t erase my values. It doesn’t make me complicit in your past. It means I see you as more than the worst things you’ve done.”
His throat works as he swallows.
“I see the man who asked for permission before he touched me after what happened,” I continue. “The man who left when I told him to leave, even though it killed him.”
“It did kill me,” he says roughly.
“I know.” The wind lifts my hair across my face, and he brushes it away, careful, reverent. “I don’t know what the future looks like,” I admit. “There may be more enemies. More complications. More choices that terrify me.”
“There will be,” he says without flinching.
“But I don’t want to live my life dictated by fear. Not of what happened. Not of what might happen.” My heart pounds now, because this is the edge. I’m standing on a cliff about to throw myself into the stormy, choppy seas for the first time in my life. “I love you, Stephen.” The words feel enormous. Heavy but real.
His eyes widen, and for a second, he looks almost stunned.
“I love you,” I repeat, my voice steadier. “Not because you saved me. Not because trauma bound us together. But because I chose you. Knowing who you are. Knowing what you’re capable of. Knowing all of your past. I choose you.”
His swallow is almost audible.
“I am not naïve,” I continue. “I know you would kill again if someone threatened me. Part of me always knew that. It doesn’t scare me the way it used to. I would kill for you, too. For the family I hope we make one day.”
He searches my face. “Family?”
I nod. “Yes, our family, the one we create together.” The sea crashes below, relentless and alive. “I don’t need you to be perfect. I need you to be honest. To try the lawful way first before moving into any other direction.” I grin. “To let me stand beside you, not behind you like some precious porcelain doll.”
“You will never stand behind me,” he says firmly. “Never.”
Emotion swells in my chest so sharply it hurts. “I don’t want to lose myself again,” I whisper. “I don’t want to lose you either.”
“You won’t lose yourself with me,” he says. “And I won’t lose you without a fight.”
A small, watery laugh escapes me. “That I know.”
He pulls me gently toward him, and this time I go fiercely, resting my forehead against his. “I love you.” The words are a low, guttural growl. “And whatever comes next—your healing, my past, our families—we face it together.”
Together.
The word settles into my bones. For months, I’ve been rebuilding myself piece by piece. Reclaiming my body. My mind. My autonomy. And sitting here, on a cliff overlooking a sea that looks wild enough to swallow the world, I realize something else.
What happened to me does not end me.
It does not steal my future.
And loving him does not make me weak.
It makes me brave.
