Three weeks.
That's how long it had been since Damien walked out of my apartment, whispering that he'd wait—even if it took ten years.
And I believed him.
But I wasn't ready. Not until I faced everything I had buried beneath years of heartbreak, abandonment, and guilt.
I kept Rylan's letter safe—like a reminder of what it means to be loved without conditions. I didn't delete his number. I didn't run from the memory of him. But I knew now...
He was my healer.
Damien was my storm.
And maybe, just maybe, I was ready to face the thunder again.
I stood outside Damien's new apartment building. Not the penthouse his father gave him. He had left that world behind. This was something simpler. Smaller. Real.
My hands trembled as I knocked.
When the door opened, he looked stunned. Hair messy. Hoodie loose. Eyes wild with emotion.
"Ava...?"
I didn't wait.
I stepped inside, heart pounding, every breath louder than thunder in my ears. "You once said you'd wait. I'm not asking you to wait anymore."
He swallowed hard, frozen. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying I'm ready," I whispered. "Not perfect. Not fully healed. But I'm ready... for you."
Damien stepped closer, his voice cracking, "Are you sure? Because if we do this again, Ava... I'm not letting you go. I won't survive losing you again."
"I'm not asking you to," I breathed, tears pooling in my eyes. "I didn't come here for closure. I came here for a beginning."
His arms wrapped around me so tight, it knocked the breath from my lungs. I held on just as tightly.
And for the first time in months, I didn't feel like I was holding myself together.
I felt held.
"I thought I lost you," he whispered into my hair.
"You almost did," I admitted, voice muffled against his chest. "But some people... they're written into your bones. Even when you try to erase them."
Damien pulled back, just enough to look me in the eyes. "Can I kiss you?"
My lips curved, trembling. "You don't have to ask."
And when he kissed me, it wasn't fiery or desperate like before.
It was slow.
Certain.
Like he finally understood what he had—and wasn't afraid to cherish it.
I didn't know what tomorrow would bring. There would be more pain. More healing. More learning to trust again.
But right now?
Right now I was home.
In his arms.
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