The city skyline glowed faintly through the tinted windows of my condo, the evening settling like a soft blanket over everything.
I stepped inside, dropping my bag by the door, still carrying the energy of the day, the lights, the crew, the cameras, the pressure of being back in front of the lens.
Acting again after months had felt like stepping into a world I had once feared, one that had once bruised me, yet here I was… alive, stronger, and with Ken waiting.
And there he was.
Ken.
Sitting cross-legged on the sofa, eyes glued to the screen, the glow reflecting in the depths of his gaze.
I froze for a heartbeat, caught off guard, before noticing the scene on the TV, me. On-screen.
My character leaning in, lips brushing another man's, the chemistry palpable, the emotion raw.
I swallowed hard, the familiar pang of anxiety tugging at my chest, but it was nothing compared to the shock of seeing him.
His expression was… vulnerable.
Raw.
His lips slightly parted, a quiet exhale escaping as his eyes flicked from the screen to me when I stepped further into the room.
And then I saw it: a glint of tears, subtle but unmistakable, pooling at the corners of his eyes.
"Ken…" My voice was soft, cautious, almost afraid.
He looked up at me fully then, finally breaking eye contact with the TV.
His face was a storm of emotion, longing, confusion, love, and maybe even jealousy.
He swallowed thickly. "Ysabelle…"
I stepped closer, hesitating, noticing the subtle tremor in his hands as he set his water glass down. "Are… are you okay?"
His eyes were steady on mine, yet the truth was clear in the way his chest rose and fell, uneven, almost like he'd been holding his breath for hours. "I… I didn't think I'd be ready to see you like that," he admitted quietly. "I thought I could handle it… watching you kiss someone else. But I… I can't."
My heart caught, not from fear, but from the weight of his honesty.
I reached out instinctively, bridging the distance between us. "Ken," I whispered, letting my hand brush his, "you don't have to. You're allowed to feel. It doesn't make you less… it makes you human."
He looked at me, a vulnerable smile tugging at the corner of his lips, but the tears were still there, shimmering in the soft glow of the room. "I thought I was ready. I told myself I was. But seeing it… you… it hit me harder than I expected."
I crouched in front of him, cupping his face in my hands, feeling the warmth of him, the reality of him, the life we had built together after so many impossible moments. "Ken… if you don't want me doing a scene like that, I won't. I promise. I'll change the script, take a different role. I won't let this hurt us."
He shook his head slowly, pressing his forehead against mine. "No… it's not that I want to control you. I trust you. It's just… I thought I could be strong enough, but I'm not. Not when it's you. I… I love you, Ysabelle. I don't want anyone else in your heart, not even for a role."
I felt my own tears welling up, unbidden, but not of sadness of relief, of happiness, of this love we had fought so hard to find. "Ken… look at me," I whispered, tilting his chin gently with my fingers. "You don't have to be ready for anything but us. You. Me. Right now. That's all that matters. No scripts, no cameras, no past or dreams. Just… this."
He exhaled shakily, closing his eyes for a heartbeat, then opened them again, glimmering with gratitude and something deeper, devotion. "I just… I don't want to lose you. Not to anyone, not to anything."
"You won't," I assured him softly, pressing my lips to his, a kiss slow, grounding, full of promises and the weight of every month we had spent building this life together. "I'm yours. Only yours. Always."
He wrapped his arms around me then, holding me close as if letting go would erase this moment entirely.
I rested my head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart, the warmth of his body, the solidity of our love.
It was real.
Tangible.
And finally, completely ours.
When we pulled back slightly, he chuckled softly through a breathy sigh. "Are you… jealous of the camera guy too?" he teased, trying to lighten the weight of the moment, though the vulnerability lingered in his eyes.
I laughed, soft and melodic, shaking my head. "No. Not him. Not anymore. You're here. That's all that matters."
Ken tilted his head, smirking faintly, though I could still see the remnants of emotion in his gaze. "So… you're telling me I don't have to worry about the screen anymore? About your scenes?"
"You don't," I whispered, brushing my lips against his temple. "If you ever feel uncomfortable, we'll adjust. Always. Our love… our trust… that comes first. Every time."
His expression softened, and I felt him exhale a long, relieved breath, the tension in his shoulders melting. "You always know how to reassure me," he murmured.
I smiled, pressing my forehead to his. "Because I love you, Ken. I've loved you in every impossible way, in every dream, every parallel… and now, in this life. And I always will."
He closed his eyes, pressing a soft kiss to my lips again, slow, lingering, and full of the depth of all the emotions we had survived together.
Every fear, every heartbreak, every impossible separation, it all dissolved in the quiet intimacy of that embrace.
—
I rested my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and felt the warmth seep into me, melting away every leftover fear, every lingering doubt. "You know," I murmured, eyes tracing the lines of his face, "I was so scared… that loving again would hurt this much."
Ken tightened his hold, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "I was scared too," he admitted quietly. "But… this… you… it's worth it. Every moment of it. Even the hard parts."
I let out a shaky laugh, the sound soft and light. "Even seeing me on that screen earlier?"
He groaned playfully, shaking his head. "Even that. Though… not gonna lie… my heart almost jumped out of my chest."
I chuckled, pressing a gentle kiss to his collarbone. "You're dramatic."
"And you love it," he teased, nuzzling into my hair.
I felt the familiar swell of affection and warmth rise in me. "I do," I whispered, truth in every syllable. "I love all of you. The nervous, the dramatic, the quiet, the teasing. Every bit."
Ken's hand traced gentle patterns along my back, slow and intimate. "And I love all of you," he said, voice low, hoarse with emotion. "The actress, the fighter, the woman who's survived everything… and still chooses to be me."
I lifted my head, meeting his gaze.
The light caught the subtle glimmer of tears in his eyes, but it was soft, vulnerable, beautiful. "Ken… I choose you too. Every day. No scripts, no cameras, no other versions of ourselves. Just… us."
He pulled me closer again, forehead resting against mine. "I thought I was ready for anything," he whispered, voice cracking slightly. "But I wasn't ready to feel this. To realize that no matter how much I tried… you are mine, and I am yours, and that terrifies me in the best way possible."
I laughed softly, brushing my lips across his temple. "Terrifies you?"
"Yeah," he admitted, burying his face in my hair. "Because loving you fully… letting myself fall completely… it's overwhelming. And I don't want to lose it. Or you."
"You won't," I whispered, wrapping my arms tighter around him. "I'm not going anywhere. Not now, not ever. I promise. If anything, I'll protect us even more than before."
He exhaled a long, shuddering breath, holding me so tightly it was almost impossible to move. "You're incredible," he murmured. "I don't know how I got so lucky."
"You got me," I replied softly, pressing my lips against his cheek, then the corner of his mouth. "You've always had me. Even in dreams, even when it felt impossible… I was always yours."
For a long while, we simply held each other.
The world outside ceased to exist.
The city lights, the noise, the past, the fears all of it faded into nothing.
It was just us, just this condo, just the quiet heartbeat of life between two people who had survived parallel universes, dreams, comas, heartbreak, and found their way back to each other.
Eventually, we pulled back slightly, enough to look into each other's eyes. He smiled, small and uncertain, but full of warmth. "Are we… really okay now?"
I nodded, brushing my thumb across his cheek. "We're more than okay. We're perfect. Flawed, messy, human… but perfect for each other."
Ken leaned in, resting his forehead against mine again. "Then let's promise something," he whispered.
"Anything," I said softly.
"Never let go," he murmured. "Not through dreams, not through worlds, not through anything. We have this. We have us. Always."
I smiled, tears brimming but not of sadness, of love, of relief, of joy that words could barely capture. "I promise," I said, voice firm but tender. "Never letting go. Always… us."
He kissed me then, slow, tender, the kind of kiss that held months of longing, years of heartbreak, and decades of hope all at once.
I kissed him back, pouring every ounce of love I had into that single moment, letting the world dissolve around us, letting only this, Ken, me, our heartbeat, our life, exist.
We pulled back just slightly, foreheads resting together, breathing in sync, and I realized something profound: we had survived everything.
Every impossible universe, every dream, every shadow of a life that wasn't ours… and we had emerged here, together, fully alive, fully ourselves, and fully in love.
Ken pressed another soft kiss to my lips, whispering against them, "I love you. Always."
"And I love you," I replied, voice breaking softly with the weight of it all. "Always."
And in that quiet, perfect moment, we let ourselves simply be.
No scripts, no cameras, no parallel worlds, no dreams.
Just us.
Laughing, holding, loving, alive.
The night stretched around us, gentle and serene, and for the first time in what felt like forever, everything was exactly as it should be.
We were home.
Together.
Forever.