I walk.
Not fast.
Not slow.
Just… forward.
Because if I stop—if I turn around—I might ruin everything I've managed to hold together these last four days.
Her face when she unwrapped it…
That brief flash of wonder.
Of something soft flickering in her eyes again.
It wrecked me.
Not because I thought it would fix anything…
…but because for the first time in so long, I didn't come to fix.
I came to offer something.
To give—without taking.
And now I'm walking away before I shatter that moment with a single wrong word.
My hand is still tingling where her fingers brushed mine.
God.
If she had asked me to stay, even for five minutes, I would've.
If she had looked at me like she used to—back when I didn't deserve it—I might've begged.
But she didn't.
She just said thank you.
And that… that was enough.
Because I'm not doing this for a response anymore.
I'm doing it because I still love her.
And that's not something I can flip off like a switch.
I pass the bookstore on the corner.
Same one we walked past four nights ago when she let me walk her home.
I remember everything about that night.
The way she said "You choosing now?" with one eyebrow raised.
The way she said "Goodnight, Kairo," and didn't close the door until I was gone.
I wonder if she watched me leave back then too.
I wonder if she's watching me now.
I don't turn around.
I don't check.
I just keep walking.
Because if I look back and she's not there…
…it might break me.
And if she is?
I don't trust myself not to go back.
The city moves around me—horns, footsteps, life happening at full speed.
But inside, I'm quiet.
Still.
Like every part of me is waiting for her to speak again.
To reach out.
To say anything.
But I'm not counting on it.
She owes me nothing.
She already gave me more grace than I deserve.
All I can do now… is wait.
Wait.
Hope.
And keep showing up
—without breaking her peace.