"That's because good people never do."
She kissed me—soft this time, almost chaste. When she pulled back, she looked at me with those steady brown eyes, and I saw something in them I hadn't seen before.
Certainty.
"I'm going to get better," she said. "I'm going to figure out who I am and what I want. And when I do—"
"You'll choose me?"
"I'll choose you."
I felt something break open in my chest. A door I'd kept locked for years, a wall I'd built around my heart. I held her tighter, buried my face in her hair, breathed her in.
"I'll wait," I said. "I'll wait as long as it takes."
She didn't say anything. But her arms tightened around me, and I knew she understood.
We fell asleep like that—wrapped around each other, her head on my chest, my hand in her hair. The moon shifted across the sky, the shadows moved across the walls, and I dreamed of orchids and spring and a world where we were free.
When I woke, she was still there.
Her face was peaceful in sleep, the lines of worry smoothed away. She looked younger like this—like the girl she would have been if the farm hadn't failed, if the city hadn't swallowed her, if my family hadn't claimed her.
I watched her breathe. In and out. The rhythm of her chest rising and falling.
I thought about what she'd said. About brokenness. About healing. About choosing.
I didn't know if she'd choose me in the end. I didn't know if she'd choose anyone. But I knew, with a certainty that sat in my bones like a fever, that I would never stop loving her.
Even if she broke me.
Especially if she broke me.
The sun rose, painting the room in shades of gold and pink. She stirred in my arms, her eyes fluttering open.
"Gabriel."
"Morning."
She smiled. It was a small smile, tired at the edges, but real. "You stayed."
"I told you I would."
"I know. I just didn't believe you." She touched my face, her fingers tracing the line of my jaw. "You're the only one who keeps his promises."
"I'll always keep my promises. Especially to you."
She kissed me. It was soft and slow, the kind of kiss that didn't ask for anything. When she pulled back, her eyes were bright.
"Thank you," she said.
"For what?"
"For staying. For not giving up on me. For being you."
I pulled her closer, burying my face in her hair. "I'll never give up on you, Monika. Never."
She held me tight.
