Page 191 of When the Storm Breaks
“I love you.”
Soft. Barely more than a breath. But it splits me open.
“I never stopped, Haiyden,” she says. “I don’t care how messy it is. I don’t care about any of it. I just—” She swallows. “I need you.”
It hits me like a bullet. My jaw locks. I want to believe her. Ineedto.
“Don’t say it just to say it,” I rasp. “Don’t—don’t say itunless you mean it.”
She steps closer and wraps her fingers around mine, steadying me the only way she can.
“I mean it.”
I can’t breathe. “Say it again.”
Her grip tightens.
“I’m yours, Haiyden. I always was.”
I cup her face with both hands, fingers trembling, and kiss her like she’s air and I’ve been drowning for months. But it’s not desperate anymore. It’s slow. Careful. Like I need to feel every second to believe it’s real.
She melts into me, her hands clutching the front of my shirt, and everything clicks back into place.
I don’t know how long we stand there—wrapped around each other in the doorway, the cold air curling around us while the rest of the world stays still. All I know is I never want to let her go again.
When we finally pull apart, I press my forehead to hers, needing to stay close—any way I can.
“Stay,” I whisper. It’s not a demand. Not a plea. It’s just… me.
She nods, barely more than a breath. “Okay.”
Later that night, we curl up on the couch, limbs tangled, loose and easy. Margot’s wedged between us like she’s making sure we don’t disappear.
Calla rests her head on my chest, her fingers tracing slow, absent circles along my arm.
I’ve never felt this happy before. Never felt this whole.
I breathe her in and press a soft kiss to the top of her head. The words slip out before I can stop them.
“It’s better now.”
She stills—just for a second. Then she presses closer, her nose brushing against my collarbone.
“Yeah,” she whispers. “It is.”
A breath leaves my chest, slow and deep. And with it goes the weight I’ve been carrying for so long. For the first time in over a year, I close my eyes—and the darkness doesn’t swallow me whole.
I don’t know what tomorrow looks like. I don’t know what comes next.
But right now, she’s here.
And that’s more than enough.
Epilogue
Calla
7 months later
