Too late for decisions.
But I couldn’t bring myself to step away from him. Not after tonight. Not after almost losing everything. So I stayed in his arms.
I felt like I could finally breathe.
I didn’t remember walking upstairs.
One minute I was in his arms in the kitchen, holding on like if I let go, everything might unravel again.
Next, we were in his room. The storm still whispered at the windows, softer now, like it had spent all its fury and was settling into something quieter.
He didn’t rush me.
After everything, after the fear, the mud, the panic, he didn’t take. He waited.
His hands stayed gentle, grounding. Like he was reminding me I was here. That he was here. That we had made it through.
I touched him first because I needed to. I needed to feel something real and solid and alive after how close everything had come to slipping away.
His breath caught when my hands found him, like he hadn’t expected that.
Like he was still holding himself back.
“Belle . . . ” he murmured, like a warning.
But I shook my head. “I’m here,” I whispered. And then I kissed him.
It wasn’t frantic. It wasn’t desperate. It was something deeper. Something that felt like choosing. Over and over again.
His hands tightened at my waist, then softened, like he was constantly checking himself, making sure I was still there, still with him, still choosing this too.
Slowly, we began to kiss and help each other out of our clothes. We never stopped touching each other until we were both naked and wrapped up in each other.
He entered me with a gentle groan. How had I missed this so much already?
We moved together slowly, deliberately, like we were learning each other all over again.
When we had finished, he pulled me closer, pressing his forehead to mine. I felt it settle in my chest.
The truth. “I love you,” I said.
The words came easily. No hesitation. No fear. Even with everything still unresolved. Even with the questions still circling. I loved him.
He stilled.
“Ma Belle, I love you too,” he said quietly.
His thumb brushed along my cheek.
“We will figure the rest out,” he added.
I swallowed. “I don’t know how yet.”
“You do not need to tonight.” His voice was steady like an anchor in all the uncertainty. “Just wait until morning,” he said softly.
Morning.
When things were clearer.
