The rain poured harder, but Naledi barely felt it anymore.
All she could feel was Noah.
His hands trembled slightly as they cupped her face, thumbs brushing away the tears and rain, his breath shallow with restraint.
"Naledi…" he whispered, forehead resting against hers.
His voice cracked.
"You don't have to pretend anymore. Not with me."
Something inside her shattered all over again — but this time, it wasn't pain.
It was relief.
She closed the tiny space between them and kissed him again, slower this time, pouring everything she couldn't say into him.
Her heart, her hope, her broken dreams — they all spilled out between their mouths.
Noah groaned low in his throat, deep and guttural, and his arms wrapped around her tightly, lifting her against him like she weighed nothing.
They stumbled into the car, soaked to the bone, laughing breathlessly through the kiss.
He started the engine with shaking hands and peeled away from the driveway, never letting go of her hand.
Neither said a word.
Words weren't enough anymore.
They reached Noah's house — no, their safe place now — in record time.
He barely managed to unlock the door before Naledi was pressing into him again, desperate, hungry, alive in a way she hadn't felt in years.
Noah kicked the door shut behind them, scooping her into his arms.
She gasped as he carried her through the living room and up the stairs like she weighed nothing, as if he had been waiting his whole life to do it.
He set her down gently on his bed, his eyes drinking her in like she was the most precious thing he had ever seen.
The rain tapped against the windows, soft and steady, a heartbeat matching the wild rhythm in Naledi's chest.
She reached for him first, fingers fumbling at his soaked shirt.
Noah caught her hands, stilling them.
His voice was hoarse.
"We don't have to—"
"I want to," she whispered.
"Please."
It was all he needed to hear.
The rest of their clothes fell away in a rush of heat and clumsy hands.
When his skin finally pressed against hers, Naledi let out a sound she didn't recognize — half-sob, half-laughter — and Noah kissed it right off her lips.
His mouth mapped a worshipful path down her neck, over her collarbone, lower, reverent and slow.
He wasn't rushing — he was savoring.
As if memorizing every inch of her, every sound she made, every tremor that shook her body under his.
Naledi arched into him, desperate, grounding herself with her nails on his back.
She had never felt so seen.
So wanted.
So loved.
When he finally, finally slid into her, Naledi gasped out his name like a prayer.
Noah stilled, pressing his forehead to hers, his whole body shaking with the effort to go slow.
"You're safe," he whispered, voice breaking.
"I've got you."
Tears burned in Naledi's eyes, but she welcomed them this time.
She clung to him, moved with him, letting him guide her through a kind of intimacy she had never known before.
It was overwhelming, healing, heart-wrenching all at once.
They lost themselves in each other — again and again — until the world outside ceased to exist.
The storm eventually faded into a steady drizzle.
The only sound left was their breathing, tangled sheets, and Noah's hand tracing lazy patterns along Naledi's back.
She lay on his chest, spent and quiet, listening to his heartbeat.
For the first time in what felt like forever — she wasn't afraid.
Morning came soft and golden.
Naledi stirred slowly, blinking up at the warm light filtering through the curtains.
She felt sore in the best way, her body aching with the memory of last night.
She stretched languidly, only to find herself immediately pulled back against a solid chest.
Noah.
Still half-asleep, he murmured something against her hair and pressed kisses along her bare shoulder, his stubble scratching deliciously.
She giggled — actually giggled — and he grinned into her skin.
"You're mine now," he whispered, voice rough with sleep and something deeper.
"I'm never letting you go."
Naledi's heart squeezed painfully.
Because she wanted that too.
She wanted him.
She wanted this.
But there was still a chain around her ankle, heavy and ugly —
Shawn.
She sighed quietly, and Noah immediately noticed.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he asked, brushing her hair back.
She hesitated, then turned to face him fully.
"I need to divorce Shawn," she said quietly.
"I can't stay trapped in a broken marriage, not when..." She trailed off, cheeks burning.
Noah cupped her face in his hands, his eyes serious.
"Not when you have me," he finished for her.
Naledi nodded, tears welling again.
He kissed her forehead, slow and reverent.
"Whatever you need, Naledi, I'm right here."
And for the first time in years, she believed it.
She didn't know how messy things would get.
She didn't know how hard the divorce would be.
Or how the world would react to her being with Noah — Shawn's twin brother.
But for once... she didn't care.
She was choosing herself.
And she was choosing him.