Needing her.
I stop in front of her.
Close.
Close enough that I can feel her breath, warm and soft against my chest.
“You okay?” I ask.
It’s quiet. Gentle.
She nods.
“Yeah,” she says. “I think… I finally am.”
I study her face.
Looking for cracks.
For anything she’s hiding.
But all I see is her.
Strong.
Still standing.
Still here.
“Good,” I say, softer now.
Because that matters more than anything else.
Her hand lifts slowly, resting against my chest.
Right over my heart.
Like she’s grounding herself.
Or maybe grounding me.
“I didn’t think I’d get this back,” she says quietly.
“This?” I ask.
She glances around the room.
Then back at me.
“All of it,” she whispers. “My life. My space. Feeling like… me again.”
My hand comes up, brushing lightly along her jaw.
“You never stopped being you,” I tell her.
Her eyes soften.
“Maybe not,” she says. “But I forgot for a while.”
