I took a deep, steadying breath as the tension that has coiled inside me for so long begins to unwind.
Yara, sensing the shift, curls up in the nook of my arm. "What happens now?" she asks softly.
I stroke her hair. "Now we start again. We find a new home, a new life here."
I look over at Morello who is watching us with a gentle smile.
"Maybe somewhere near the ocean this time."
Yara's face lights up. "I can learn to surf!"
I laugh, the sound light and airy, as I picture Yara catching waves.
It's so long since I've heard myself laugh with joy that I almost don't recognize the sound.
"We'll see about that." My smile fades into a more serious expression as I meet Morello's gaze again.
"Thank you," I say, my voice thick with emotion, tears threatening to spring forth. "For everything. For keeping us safe, giving us hope..."
My words trail off as I struggle to find the right ones.
Morello moves closer, his hand coming up to cradle my cheek.
"You never have to thank me," he says softly. "I made a promise to protect you both, no matter what. And I always follow through on my promises."
I shiver at the similarity between his words and Gerald's as his eyes bore into mine, layered with meaning.
But as I see the kindness radiating from within, my heart quickens.
In this moment, I know for sure that he's nothing like Gerald, or Luchenko, and know that his commitment to both me and Yara runs far deeper than duty.
Here, in this quiet moment, the future feels limitless.
I smile up at Morello, allowing myself to get lost in his warm brown eyes for a moment.
An unspoken understanding passes between us, a new layer to our relationship born from shared trauma and triumph.
Clearing my throat, I stand up, shifting the mood. "Well, I don't know about you two, but I'm starving. How does pizza sound to celebrate?"
Yara jumps up eagerly. "Yes! With extra cheese? And pineapple? "
I laugh. "Of course, sweetie."
Morello quirks a brow and pulls a face. "Oh, you like pineapple on your pizza? I heard that's immediate grounds for deportation."
For a second, Yara looks worried.
"Too soon," I scold Morello.
"Just joking, just joking!" He puts up his hands in mock defense, and Yara and I both laugh.
As I go to grab the takeout menu, I feel lighter than I have in years. Lighter than I can remember ever feeling since I was a young child, in fact.
The evening passes in a blur of easy laughter and hope, the three of us chatting about plans for the future over steaming slices of pizza, pineapple and not.
Yara's eyes shine as she talks about going back to school, making new friends, and learning to surf.
Morello and I share relieved smiles, Yara's tenacity and resilience almost unbelievable, and the worst behind us at last.