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The corners of his lips tilt up slightly. “Okay, Flowers. If I’m driving.” He reaches a hand out for me, and I take it as we leave the apartment and head out to the van.

He remains guarded, however, as we drive towards the unknown destination. I’m aware that the weight of his past and the dangers that still lurk in the shadows are never far from his mind. But I’m hell-bent on breaking through the wall he’s built to protect himself.

“Are you going to give me any hints?” he finally asks, glancing over at me as he drives.

I’m practically bouncing in my seat, struggling to not blurt out what’s coming. I’ve never been good at secrets. “Nope!” I giggle, shaking my head. “You'll just have to wait and see.”

He lets out an almost imperceptible sigh. “Fine,” he concedes, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “But I'd better be impressed.”

I can't contain my happiness as I notice Armando's smile. It's subtle, but it's there, and it feels like a victory. We're getting closer to the waterfall—a little hidden secret just outside Chicago’s city limits, and my giddiness grows with every passing mile. I haven’t been to this place in ages, and I’m questioning why as we get further and further from the city.

“Almost there.” I practically bounce in my seat. “Less than thirty minutes, I promise.”

Armando shakes his head, but there’s amusement in his eyes. The sunshine is starting to break through his grumpy exterior. My plan may be working.

I direct him to the spot. The sound of cascading water fills the air when we finally step out of the van. The lush forest surrounding us feels like a secret world just waiting to be explored.

“Do I look like the hiking type?” he teases, but I can see he’s happy.

“It’s not far. Come on,” I say, grabbing Armando's hand and leading him down the well-worn path towards the waterfall. “You're going to love it here.”

As we walk closer to the roaring water, he scans our surroundings, taking in the vibrant greenery and the delicate wildflowers that line the trail. It feels like the perfect moment to share a piece of my past with him.

“I used to come here all the time when I was a kid,” I confess, feeling a bit vulnerable as I open up to him. “It was a needed break from the loudness and the dullness of the city. This is where I first fell in love with flowers and foliage. I always knew I had to work around color and beautiful things.”

“I’ve never been much of a nature man.” He walks up and puts his arms around me. “But I am now.” He kisses my jaw. “At least, I’m a huge fan of flowers.”

I laugh.

“Yep, I have all the color and beautiful things I need simply by being around you.”

My heart skips a beat with my victory. Armando is softening. Opening up. I can feel it in the steadiness of his embrace. I hear it in his words. And as he looks into my eyes, I see it.

He takes a deep breath. “Prison was... suffocating,” he begins, his voice heavy with emotion. “Everything was gray, from the walls to the floors to the bars that kept me caged. It was hard to imagine anything else.” He leans down and gives me a small peck to the lips. “Until now.”

I can't even begin to comprehend what he must have gone through, but I appreciate his willingness to open up to me. I have so many questions about his time in prison, but I’ll never ask. I’ll simply wait for moments like this. When he willingly gives me little peeks into that time.

“I don’t deserve you,” he says.

“You do.” I kiss him. “You’re the best thing that has happened to me.”

“My life…” He pauses and looks around. He motions to his surroundings. “This has never been my life. Flowers and nature and—this just wasn’t my life.”

“It is now.” I tug him toward the final destination.

As I lead him along the riverbank, the sound of rushing water and delicate bird songs fill the air. The sun filters through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground beneath our feet.

As we continue our stroll, my foot slips on a particularly slick rock. Instinctively, Armando reaches out and grabs my arm to steady me, ensuring I don’t lose my balance. His watchful touch sends a thrilling jolt through me, but as much as I appreciate his protectiveness, I want to show him that I'm capable of taking care of myself too. Gently, I pull my hand away from his grasp and navigate the rocks on my own.

“Everything okay?” His voice is gruff. My tough guy. Everything is a growl or a grumble.

“Everything's fine,” I assure him. “I just want to prove to myself, and to you, that I can do this on my own.”

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