"I already know it's you, Giancarlo."
Sarica's voice shook as her fingers found his face in the darkness, tracing the new scars, memorizing the changes sixteen months had wrought. "So p-please let me see you. And I p-promise. I won't ask any questions you don't want to answer. It doesn't matter what you say or don't say." Her voice broke, the sound piercing his heart. "I'm going to wait for you the way you waited for me all those years."
Sarica waited for Giancarlo to speak with desperate hope. But instead of words, he chose to answer her with a simple little click of a light switch, and the sound waseverything.
She started to sob as she finally saw him clearly, her trembling fingers tracing the chiseled lines of the face that had consumed her thoughts and dreams for the past six months.
Thank You, God.
Thank You.
She couldn't stop staring, couldn't stop crying, couldn't stop thanking God enough because she knew this would have been impossible without Him.
The silver in Giancarlo's hair had spread slightly; a wider streak that made him look even more distinguished despite his leaner and harder frame. But what broke her heart the most was his eyes, oh God.
His eyes were still the most precious windows to his soul, and in it, she already knew just how much he had suffered in the sixteen months that he was gone.
She traced his lips with care, a part of her still in shock that the Giancarlo before her was no longer an illusion. "It's really you," she couldn't help but whisper, and a sardonic smile twisted over the lips she had just touched.
"Now, you have doubts?" His tone was mocking, but she could hear the strain beneath it, could see the muscle ticking in his jaw.
"I love you." Sarica felt foolish for how desperately she needed to say them. But this time she could see his beautiful face, and her heart hurt at how his features hardened at her words.
"It seems I need to make myself clear."
"Giancarlo—-"
Sarica's voice faltered as he disentangled her limbs and put her down on her feet.
"The only reason I've shown myself is for you to understand that this has to end now." Each word seemed to cost him, seemed to carve new lines of pain around his mouth. "I want you to leave—"
"Why?"
His jaw clenched. "What happened to not asking questions I don't want to answer?"
"Because I'm sure that's not one of them." She stepped closer, heart pounding against her ribs. "Your mind says you don't want to, but your heart—"
"Don't."
"But I lo—"
Giancarlo was gone before she could finish, the door closing behind him with terrible finality.
But this time, the sound didn't break her.
This time, it made her think.
Because she knew her Giancarlo—knew him in ways that sixteen months couldn't erase. Knew the man who had once moved heaven and earth to protect her would never cause her this kind of pain without reason.
And as she stood there, surrounded by the lingering scent of him, pieces started falling into place. The careful way he touched her, even when trying to push her away.
The pain in his eyes when she said she loved him.
The way his hands shook when she got too close to whatever truth he was hiding.
No, her white knight hadn't changed—not where it mattered.
And the only thing clear to Sarica now was that this time...
