And that ended any doubts.
That ended the debate.
The distance.
The lies I was telling myself about what this could be.
Because when I had her in my arms? When she looked at me like that? When she let go and trusted me with something real?
It stopped being a question.
Now?
It’s fact.
She fits.
In my space. In my head. In the parts of me I don’t let anyone near.
And yeah, maybe I don’t know what love is supposed to look like.
Maybe I don’t have the right language for it.
But I know this—I am in love with this woman. And I’m not walking away from her.
Not now.
Not after last night. Not after feeling what it’s like to have something real in my hands.
Call it obsession.
Call it possession.
Call it whatever the hell you want.
All I know is—she’s mine to want. And I’m done pretending I don’t.
I exhale slowly and force myself to sit up, easing my arm out from under her.
She shifts, rolling onto her stomach, pulling the sheet with her.
For a second, I almost lay back down.
Almost forget everything outside this room.
But I can’t. Because reality?
It’s already knocking.
I need clothes. I need my phone. A fucking toothbrush.
I need—I grab my jeans from the floor, pull them on quietly, and step out into the hallway, letting the door click shut behind me.
I’ll just be gone for a minute.
That’s all.
I’ll grab what I need. Come right back.