Trapped in Your Hands

CHAPTER 9: Choosing A Life with Her

That night, as I lay beside Jiejie, I listened to the rhythm of her breathing, the way it softened with sleep, steady and warm. The faint glow of the city lights seeped through the curtains, casting delicate shadows on the walls, and I traced them absentmindedly with my fingers.

It was strange—this quiet happiness, this overwhelming sense of belonging. It felt like a dream, fragile and fleeting, like something I wasn’t sure I was allowed to hold onto. A part of me feared waking up to find that all of this had been a temporary illusion. That maybe, Jiejie would decide this was just a passing affection, that I was just a little one she wanted to spoil for a while before moving on.

But then, as if sensing my thoughts, Jiejie shifted in her sleep and pulled me closer. Her arm wrapped around my waist, her warmth melting into me, her breath tickling my collarbone. And at that moment, all the doubts, all the overthinking, faded into silence.

I don’t need to have all the answers right now. I just needed this—this weekend, this night, this moment where I could rest in the safety of her arms.

That morning, as the golden light of dawn streamed through the curtains, I turned to Jiejie, my voice still laced with sleep. “I’ll move in with you."

She blinked, then smiled—soft and radiant, like the first light of morning itself. She didn’t say much, just pulled me into her arms, holding me like she had known all along that I would say yes.

Back on campus, I did all the lab work on time, and quickly ran back to my dorm with excitement.

When my roommate asked where I was moving to and why, I only smiled and said, "I’m going to my family."

She didn’t press for details, just nodded with a knowing look, as if she understood more than I was willing to say. Maybe she thought I was moving in with an older sibling, maybe a relative—but in truth, Jiejie had become something far beyond that.

Jiejie was home.

That night, as I packed my things, I felt a strange mix of emotions. Excitement, of course—because waking up beside Jiejie every morning, coming home to her after long days in the lab, felt like a dream I never thought I could have. But there was also something tender and quiet underneath, a feeling I couldn’t quite name.

Perhaps it was the realization that I wasn’t just moving into a new place.

I was choosing a life with her.

This was the life I had imagined, and now I was living it.

Every morning, I woke up to the soft rhythm of Jiejie’s breathing beside me. The golden sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over her peaceful face. I would stay there for a moment, memorizing every detail—the way her lashes fanned over her cheeks, the way her fingers sometimes curled slightly in her sleep. And then, as if she could sense me watching, she would stir, pull me closer, and mumble a drowsy "Morning, little babe."

Every evening, after long hours in the lab, I came home to her arms. Sometimes she would be curled up on the couch, waiting for me, a book forgotten in her lap. Other times, she would be cooking, the scent of something warm and comforting filling the apartment. No matter how exhausting my day had been, stepping through that door and seeing her was enough to melt it all away.

But there were also quiet nights when she wasn’t there.

When she had to leave for work—filming in another city, another country—I would sit in our too-large bed, wrapped in the lingering scent of her perfume, scrolling through our messages, listening to the voice notes she sent late at night just to say she missed me.

There were times I wished I could just drop everything and go to her, but the little mice in my lab wouldn’t wait. Science had its own pace, and so did love.

Still, even in the solitude, I never felt alone. Because no matter where she was in the world, she always found a way to make me feel like I belonged to her, like the love we built was unshakable.

And it was.

Because this was the life I had imagined, and now I was living it.

And even in the distance, even in the longing, I knew—true love still saves the day.