I’m sorry,the kiss says.I love you. I never stopped loving you.
I pour everything I am into it, and the world above melts away until there’s nothing left but a love so intense it threatens to shatter us both. And as he pushes himself against me, I wrap my legs around his waist, needing to feel his heart beating against mine so I can know to my soul that this is real.
Thathe’sreal.
Because this isn’t just a kiss. It’s an apology. A promise. It’s every unspoken word, every regret, every broken piece of us being stitched back together in the space between our lips.
I want to crawl into his body—into his soul—and live in it forever.
From the way he’s kissing me, his fingers threaded through my hair, he wants the same.
But eventually, he pulls back to look into my eyes. As if he wants to make sure that I feel it, too.
I wish I could speak to him. To tell him that I love him as much as I know he loves me. To apologize for my hateful vows.
But here, surrounded by our element—this is real. This is everything we lost, and everything we found.
I can tell he understands from the way his hand cups my face, his thumb brushing my cheek with a tenderness that makes tears spring to my eyes.
Riven and I love each other. And nothing—not a dryad’s bargain, not Eros’s lead arrow, not even our own broken hearts—can change that fundamental truth.
But all of that’s in the past. Because somehow, this sacred, ancient pool cut through every spell, every barrier, and every lie we’ve told ourselves.
Our love will strengthen and endure—now more than ever—no matter what.
Riven is mine, and I’m his. Always.
And so, with one final encouraging, relieved, heartfelt look, we pull each other to the surface, breaking through at the same time.
My head emerges, and everything shatters.
The warmth, the clarity, the truth… it’s gone. Ripped away in a heartbeat, leaving only red-hot pain in its wake.
And as Riven looks at me with those cold, soulless eyes of his, I swear to every god in the Universe that I’ll never let him get that close to me ever again.
