But I don't hate it.
In fact, I want more of it. Want to protect it. Want to build a life where this feeling is normal instead of exceptional.
We finish breakfast slowly, savoring the last moments in this house before we return to reality. Clear the table together. Wash the dishes in a rhythm that feels almost domestic, almost like something permanent.
Then we go upstairs to pack.
I fold clothes methodically, each item creased and stacked with precision. Erion throws things into his bag without much care, efficiency valued over neatness. Lily moves between our rooms like a ghost, gathering the things Luan left behind before he went to the clinic. His shirts. His toiletries.
Within an hour, everything is packed. Bags lined up by the front door like soldiers waiting for orders.
The SUV arrives on time, tires crunching on gravel.
We load everything into the back in silence. Climb inside. The driver pulls away from the villa without a word, the house disappearing behind us.
I watch it go in the side mirror. The lake. The trees. The place where everything shifted. Where Lily became ours and we became hers.
Then I turn forward. Focus on what's ahead.
The clinic is twenty minutes away. The drive is smooth, the road winding through snow-covered landscape. Quiet settles over us. The hum of the engine fills the space, a low mechanical purr.
Nobody speaks. We're all lost in our own thoughts. Our own anticipation.
When we arrive, the driver parks near the entrance. We get out and stand together in the cold morning air, breath misting in front of our faces.
We wait.
Then Luan appears through the glass doors.
Walking on his own. No hesitation in his steps. No hand trailing along the wall for guidance. No careful measurement of distance.
His eyes are bright. Clear. Focused. The fog that's been clouding them for weeks is gone, replaced by sharp green that misses nothing.
He sees us immediately. His gaze moves from me to Erion, acknowledgment passing between us in a single glance.
Then his eyes land on Lily.
She doesn't wait. Doesn't hesitate. Just moves toward him quickly, closing the distance in seconds, her boots slipping slightly on the floor.
He catches her before she can stumble. Wraps his arms around her waist with sure strength. Lifts her slightly off the ground, her toes leaving the ground.
Then he kisses her.
Not gentle. Not restrained. Passionate and hungry and desperate. Like he's been waiting for this moment since the day he lost his sight. Like he's been dreaming of this. Starving for it.
When they pull apart, both breathing hard, Luan looks at her face. His hand comes up to cup her cheek, thumb brushing over her skin with reverent gentleness.
"You're beautiful," he says. His voice is rough, scraped raw with emotion. "E bukur.I already knew that. But now I can see it."
Lily blushes, pink spreading across her cheeks like watercolor. Her dimples appear when she smiles, deep and genuine.
Luan's thumb brushes over one of them. Then the other. Like he's memorizing the geography of her face. Committing every detail to memory so he'll never forget.
"Let's go home," he says quietly.
We all get into the SUV. Luan sits beside Lily, his hand finding hers immediately, their fingers lacing together like they were designed to fit that way. He doesn't let go. Doesn't look away from her.
The driver pulls away from the clinic, heading toward the airport where the private jet is waiting.
