Five minutes turned to ten.
Then twelve.
And I was starting to convince myself that maybe she wasn't coming. Maybe she changed her mind. Maybe Sarah had said something. Maybe she fell asleep. Maybe she realized I wasn't worth the effort of getting out of bed,
Then the door cracked open, and the porch light hit her like some kind of divine spotlight.
And I forgot how to fucking breathe.
She wore the most casual thing imaginable, loose black sweatpants, a faded navy shirt with a college logo I couldn't read from this distance, and an old oversized jacket draped over her shoulders like armor. Her hair was pulled back in a loose clip, a few strands falling out to frame her face, and she had no makeup on, no pretense.
And still...
She looked like she'd stepped out of every dream I ever had.
There was something raw about her. Like she hadn't put on a mask tonight, like this was the Aria she didn't show most people. Bare. Honest. Wounded.
My heart squeezed painfully.
