"Peace isn't found. It's chosen — one day at a time"
One year later, the world finally felt quiet. Not empty... just peaceful, like the hush that settles over the ocean before sunrise.
Sophie and I stood at the edge of the countryside cliff we used to talk about as if it were some unreachable dream. It wasn't crowded the way people always claimed it was. Maybe we got lucky. Or maybe the universe decided we deserved a moment to ourselves.
The wind was cool, brushing against my face. Grass whispered under our feet, swaying like it had been waiting for us. Sophie stepped forward, slipping off her shoes without hesitation.
Barefoot.
In the grass.
Sun slipping through her hair.
She looked like sunlight found its human shape again. And just like always, I found myself watching her... and forgetting how to breathe for a second.
She turned back, laughing at something I said earlier, her smile soft and real. Real in a way that still shook me, even after everything. Even after healing. Even after learning how to live again.
We walked along the cliffside trail... sometimes talking, sometimes teasing each other, sometimes falling into that comfortable silence that only comes when two people feel safe. Truly safe.
"See?" Sophie said, gesturing out to the rolling hills and the blue horizon. "Told you the wait would be worth it."
"It's perfect," I admitted.
"You're biased," she teased.
"Obviously."
She nudged my shoulder with hers. I nudged back. We kept walking.
After a while, when the sky dipped into shades of amber, I reached into my jacket. My fingers brushed against cool metal... a small silver ring I'd kept hidden for weeks. No diamonds. No extravagance. Just simple, honest, and ours.
She turned when she noticed the shift in my steps. Her eyes softened the moment she saw the ring between my fingers.
I didn't kneel.
I didn't make a speech.
I just held her hand and spoke quietly, because some things don't need volume—just truth.
"Not forever," I said.
"Just always. One day at a time."
Her breath hitched, eyes glimmering like the ocean far below us. "Then I'll say yes every day."
She slipped the ring onto her own finger before I could, smiling like she'd just chosen happiness itself.
We sat down in the grass, leaning against each other—her head on my shoulder, my arm around her, fingers intertwined. The wind sang through the cliffside, and for the first time in years, the silence wasn't threatening. It was gentle. Whole.
Just hands held.
Just breath warming the cool air.
Just us—finally safe.
And I realized something I should've known all along:
Healing isn't an ending.
It's a beginning.
A quiet one.
A strong one.
Ours.
"Love doesn't need forever to be real," I whispered into her hair.
"It just needs always."