Last Letter

The safety deposit box waited for us in a quiet bank on the edge of Riverside Forge. Colossus insisted we go together, just the two of us. No club escort. No drama. He wanted this moment to belong to me — to us. He held my hand the entire drive, his thumb stroking slow circles over my knuckles. When we stepped inside the small bank, he stayed right beside me, a quiet mountain of calm. The manager led us to the private room, and when the box was placed on the table, Colossus pulled out a chair for me first. “Whatever’s in there,” he said softly, crouching so we were eye-level, “I’m right here. You open it when you’re ready. Or we can leave it closed and walk away. Your choice, baby. Always your choice.” I looked at him — this giant of a man who could crush bone but chose to be gentle wi