I would have to feel, I would have to trust. And trusting was what broke me the most.
Ethan approached again, this time slower, as if waiting for permission.
He didn't kiss me, he didn't need to. His forehead rested on mine.
And that simple gesture touched me more than any grandiose statement.
"I'm not the same as before," he whispered.
I looked at him.
"I hope so."
A faint smile appeared on his lips, I took a deep breath. My mind screamed prudence, my heart... something else.
Should I give it a try? The question did not leave me all day, because this time I didn't see him as arrogant.
I saw him working for me, not perfect. Not redeemed... But trying. And perhaps love is not the absence of mistakes.
Perhaps it is the conscious decision to correct them. That night, when I was alon
