Another pause.
“And we’re not pretending this didn’t matter.”
“I’m not asking you to forgive me.”
“I already have.”
The words surprise both of us.
“It took years,” I admit.
“But I don’t want to waste any more time being careful with the wrong things.”
She studies me.
“You’re not rushing me,” she says softly.
“You’re here.”
I reach out.
Stop.
Look at her.
She nods.
I take her hand.
It feels like coming home to a place I thought I wasn’t allowed to want anymore.
We rest our foreheads together.
We don’t kiss.
Not yet.
We just breathe.
“Stay,” I say quietly.
“Okay.”
She sits beside me.
I wrap an arm around her.
For the first time in a long time—
the dark doesn’t feel so heavy.
4
Wren
It happens after a long day.
A day filled with maps and patterns and quiet conversations that never quite say how dangerous things are becoming.
