Not rushed.
Not reckless.
Just two people remembering how they fit together.
My fingers curl into his shirt.
His forehead rests against mine.
“You’re sure?” he asks quietly.
“Yes.”
That’s all it takes.
The night unfolds slowly.
Clothes fall away in quiet moments between kisses.
Hands relearn familiar paths.
Every touch feels like rediscovering something precious we once believed was gone forever.
When Boone lowers me onto the bed, he pauses above me.
His forehead presses gently against mine.
His eyes search my face.
Like he’s making sure I’m really here.
Like he’s afraid I might disappear again.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he says softly.
“No.”
His hand slides along my side, warm and steady.
“Neither are you.”
A tear slips from the corner of my eye before I can stop it.
Not from sadness.
From the weight of everything we lost—and everything we somehow found again.
Boone notices immediately.
He brushes the tear away with his thumb.
“Hey,” he whispers.
“I’m okay.”
He kisses the corner of my eye.
Then my cheek.
