Our future.
223 Words
Love didn’t save me. Mason didn’t fix me.
We saved ourselves—together, on our terms. The storm had passed, but the echoes of what we’d survived lingered in every corner of our lives. Every argument, every stolen glance, every night spent apart had taught us how fragile love could be—and how worth fighting for it was.
I stayed in the town that had once felt like a cage. The same streets that had felt unfamiliar were now home. Mason stayed by my side, patient, protective, and intense as ever—but now tempered by understanding. We rebuilt what the past had threatened to destroy. Slowly, carefully, we learned to trust each other, body and soul, letting ourselves feel without fear.
Sometimes, we walked the pier at night, hand in hand, the ocean restless beneath us, moonlight shimmering across the waves. And every time, I remembered that first night I met him—the fire he lit in me that I couldn’t put out.
Back where he found me, I finally understood what it meant to belong. Not to a town. Not to a family. Not even to a person—but to myself.
And Mason? He belonged to me, as much as I belonged to him. And that, I realized, was the kind of love worth everything we had endured.
- Writer
