Protection. Care. Love. Possession.

It's funny, isn't it? How these words, these simple, beautiful words, are supposed to make you feel safe-like a warm embrace that shields you from the world. But the truth is, they're weapons in disguise. Because when someone loves you too much, too fiercely, it becomes a cage.

At first, it feels like they're giving you the world. Every gesture, every word, wrapped in care. They protect you from the smallest of dangers, always there, always watching. It feels like the kind of love you've always dreamed of. You feel cherished, special, like you're worth more than the world itself.

But soon, you begin to notice the chains. They're invisible at first, subtle, almost unnoticeable. Every time they tell you how much they care, you feel a little bit more suffocated. Every act of protection starts to feel like a restriction on your freedom. And every declaration of love becomes less about you, and more about their need to own you, to keep you locked in place.

It's like a story with no ending-one where the more they give, the more they take. Their love becomes a demand, their care becomes a control, and their protection is nothing but a wall around your heart.

I had always believed that love was freedom. That it would lift me up, help me grow. But here I am, caught in this web, tangled in the very things I thought would save me. Protection, care, love, possession. They're no longer words of affection. They're bars in a prison, and the one who gave them to me is now the jailer.

And I, like a fool, believed I was the one they loved the most. But love isn't always love. Sometimes, it's the force that binds you to a life you never wanted, a reality where you are loved so much, you lose yourself in the process.

And the worst part of this is that this immense love and care is often gender-biased. The love that is meant to protect, to support, is twisted by the belief that men must be the saviors, and women must be the ones in need of saving. God never showed partiality in genders. He gave boys strength, and he gave girls the ability to endure. He gave boys temper, and he gave girls patience. Both genders have their own way of fighting their problems-neither is better or more important than the other.

Yet here we are, caught in a cycle where strength is seen as power, and patience is seen as weakness. Where protection, though well-meaning, becomes a boundary-a line drawn in the sand that only one side can cross.

But rather than teaching girls how to hide away from the world, to stay safe and protected, it would be far better to teach boys how to let us move freely within it. Teach them how to understand that our freedom isn't a threat to them, but a right we all deserve.

We don't need more cages-what we need is space. The kind of space that allows us to breathe, to live, and to fight our battles without fear of being held back by someone else's idea of what we can or can't handle.

Here I am, sitting in front of Adrit, trying to answer all the questions he has about me being out till 7 o'clock.

His eyes are sharp, his voice a little too calm as he presses on, wanting to know every detail. Why did I stay out so late? Where did I go? Who was I with? His tone is concerned, but I know it's more than that-there's a flicker of something else. Worry, perhaps. Or possessiveness, disguised as brotherly care.

I know he's only trying to protect me. He always has. But I'm not the same person I was yesterday. I'm not the girl who needs to be shielded from the world, wrapped in layers of protection. I've grown, and with that growth, my need for space has grown too. Space to live, to breathe, to make my own decisions.

Yet, here I am, trying to justify my every move to someone who loves me, but in doing so, suffocates me.

"Where were you, Aadhira?" Adrit's voice breaks through my thoughts, and I can see the concern in his eyes. His face is hard, though, his jaw clenched in that way that tells me he's trying hard to hold back the storm he's feeling.

I open my mouth, trying to explain, but the words feel wrong-too fragile, too weak for the gravity of the truth. I can't tell him everything. Not yet. Not when I still don't know where this path is leading.

"I was with Viaansh," I finally say, the name slipping from my lips like it's an admission of something forbidden. His expression darkens immediately, and I brace myself for what's coming next.

"Why didn't you tell me?" His voice is quieter now, colder. I can hear the unspoken question in his eyes: Why are you hiding things from me?

"I wasn't hiding anything," I reply, my own voice sharp with a mixture of frustration and guilt. "I just didn't think it was necessary to tell you everything."

His eyes narrow, and the tension between us thickens. It's not just about the hours I've spent out. It's about the choices I'm making. About how, no matter how much he tries to protect me, I'm slipping away, inch by inch.

"You're not a child anymore," he says, his voice tight with something unspoken. "But that doesn't mean you should just go around doing whatever you want without considering the consequences."

I feel the weight of his words, but I won't let myself be trapped in this invisible cage anymore. "And you're not the only one who gets to decide what's best for me, Adrit," I snap before I can stop myself.

For a moment, there's silence between us-heavy, suffocating. He doesn't say anything, just watches me with that same intense gaze, as if waiting for me to break. But I don't.

I can feel the shift in our relationship now. The balance of power, of control, is changing. He's always been the protector, but I'm starting to see that his protection isn't always the freedom I need.

"I'll be careful," I say finally, my voice softer. "But I need to make my own choices. Even if you don't always agree with them."

I turned to go to my room, wanting to escape the suffocating weight of Adrit's questions, but before I could move, his hand shot out, gripping my arm tightly.

"What were you doing with him?" His voice was low, but it trembled with frustration, with something more.

I pulled my arm away from his grasp, the irritation rising inside me like a storm. "I was having sex with him. Any problem?" The words were out before I could stop them, sharp and reckless, filled with the anger I'd kept buried for so long. I screamed them out, hoping the force of my words would break through this suffocating cage I was trapped in.

For a moment, there was silence. Adrit stood frozen, his face draining of color, the shock clearly written across his features. But just as quickly, his face flushed with rage. His fists clenched at his sides, and I could almost feel the storm building inside him, ready to explode.

And then-BOOM. A voice.

"How dare you, Aadhira?"

I snapped my head toward the door.

There they were. Mamma and Papa. Mamma's face was a storm, eyes blazing with anger, her lips pressed into a thin line. Papa was standing next to her, his expression a mix of disappointment and concern. He looked as if he was trying to calm Mamma down, but the tension in the room was palpable.

I felt a rush of shame flood through me, the kind that stung like acid. But then, beneath it, something else-something rebellious. Why did it always have to be me on the receiving end of their anger? Why did I have to be the one to explain myself?

But I didn't have time to react. Mamma's voice sliced through the air again, this time more controlled, but just as fierce.

"How could you say something like that? How could you... behave like this?"

Papa, on the other hand, remained silent, his eyes locked on mine. He didn't speak. It was the silence that hurt more than anything.

"Ma-mamma, I-I can explain. I wa-" But before I could finish, Mamma showed her hand, silencing me with a single, sharp gesture.

By now, my face was burning with humiliation, the heat rising in my cheeks, while tears streamed down relentlessly, like a river breaking free from its dam. The weight of my guilt, of their anger, drowned me in a torrent of emotion.

I turned toward Papa, desperation clinging to my voice. "Papa, please, tell Mamma to listen-Aah!"

The pain exploded on my cheek as a slap cracked through the air, searing through me like fire. The sting radiated across my skin, sharp and unforgiving, leaving my face throbbing in agony.

"Adhu," I heard Papa's voice, tinged with worry, and Adrit's call echoed through the room as if their voices alone could shield me from the storm that had just hit.

My vision blurred with the relentless flow of tears, each one adding weight to the suffocating knot in my throat. Through the haze, I glanced at Mamma, and for a fleeting moment, I saw a flash of guilt flicker in her eyes, as if she too had realized the depths of her own actions. But the moment passed as quickly as it came.

I took a step back, the air around me growing thicker, colder.

"Ho gya? Happy now, Adrit?" My voice cracked, raw with the pain I could no longer suppress. "What am I to you? A doll? A thing to be controlled and displayed, but never truly understood?"

Adrit took a step toward me, his presence looming, but I held up my hand, stopping him before he could come any closer.

"Don't." The word was more of a plea than a command, trembling with the fear of what might happen if he didn't listen.

Mamma's voice cut through the air, sharp and venomous. "Stop playing the victim card when you are the one who is wrong here."

"Victim card?" I scoffed, my voice thick with disbelief. "Seriously, Mamma?" The words spilled out, laced with frustration and a deep, painful irony. How could she not see what was happening?

The tears flowed uncontrollably, and I couldn't stop them. "Why does it always have to be me?" I choked out, my voice breaking with the weight of it all. "Why am I the one who has to endure this, who has to carry everyone's expectations like a heavy burden? I'm drowning in all of this, and no one even sees it! All you see is the mistakes, the wrongs, but you don't see me. You don't see how hard I try to make everything right, only to be torn down every time. I'm... I'm so tired, Mamma. Tired of pretending, tired of being strong when I'm breaking inside."

I staggered back, my words raw, desperate, and filled with the deep ache I had kept hidden for so long.

"I know. All of you are in the worst mood. Why? Because last night, you confronted Adrit and asked him to break up with his girlfriend." I let the words hang in the air, heavy with accusation. Everyone's eyes snapped to me, wide with shock.

I let out a bitter, hollow laugh, the sound echoing in the tense silence.

"You're all thinking, how does she know?" I scoffed, my voice thick with disbelief. "Well, let me tell you. How could I not know when every shift in your mood determines how I'm treated? When you're all happy, I'm a princess. But the moment things go wrong, I'm just the little rebellious problem, right?"

"Aadhu bachche, we are just concerned-" Papa began, but I couldn't hold back anymore. I cut him off, my words sharp and cutting through the air like a blade.

"Concern?" I sneered bitterly. "That's the problem, isn't it? Could you please keep your emotions in control for once?" My voice trembled with a mix of frustration and pain, the words biting with a truth I didn't want to admit but couldn't hold back any longer.

"If you don't remember, I'm 19. Just a generation ago, this was the age when people would say a girl's too old now. She should get married." The bitterness in my voice was unmistakable, a sharp contrast to the innocence I once had.

"I understand, beta. But what you said to Adrit was unacceptable." Mamma's tone was firm, but I could hear the strain behind it, the battle between concern and disappointment.

"Mamma," I said, my voice wavering with frustration, "I'm sure you've heard those same questions when you came home after a long, exhausting day-'Where were you?' 'Who were you with?' 'What were you doing?' And I'm sure you never once felt the joy of hearing those questions, thinking, Wow, so many people must care about me to show me this so-called concern."

"Bu-" Mamma began, but Papa silenced her, gently holding her hand, as if trying to keep the storm from escalating any further.

I glanced at everyone, my heart heavy with emotions I couldn't articulate. In that moment, I felt utterly alone, surrounded by people who just couldn't understand. Without another word, I turned and fled to my room, the sound of my footsteps echoing in the silence that followed me.

I locked the door behind me, the click echoing like a final barrier between me and the world outside. Without a second thought, I threw myself onto the bed, burying my face deep into the pillow. The soft fabric muffled my sobs, but it couldn't quiet the storm raging within me.

Why is it always like this? No matter how much I try, how much I prove that I can handle my own life, it's never enough for them. They're always there, hovering, questioning, doubting. My tears won't stop; they're soaking into the pillow, but it doesn't matter. The ache in my chest grows heavier with every passing moment. Am I asking for too much? Just a little space, a little trust? I let out a choked sob, and my voice breaks as I cry aloud, "Why can't they see me for who I am? I'm not a child anymore!"

The words echo back at me, but they do nothing to ease the storm inside. I clutch the pillow tighter, as if somehow it can absorb the pain clawing at my chest. "Is it so wrong to want to live my life my way? To not have to answer for every single step I take?" My voice trembles, and for a second, I hate myself for even asking these questions, as if I need their permission to exist.

Memories flood my mind-every time they've pulled me back, every time their "concern" felt like chains instead of love. The questions that never end, the scrutiny that never lets me breathe. 'Where were you?' 'Who were you with?' 'What were you doing?' The words repeat in my head like a haunting refrain, each one chipping away at the person I'm trying so desperately to become.

I press my hands against my face, trying to muffle the sobs that now come in waves, unstoppable and unrelenting. "I can't do this anymore," I whisper to myself, the words barely audible, trembling with despair. "I'm tired... so tired of fighting for every bit of freedom, for every breath. They'll never understand, will they?" My voice cracks, and I bury my face deeper into the pillow, as if it can somehow shield me from the truth I already know.

My thoughts swirl, chaotic and unforgiving. Am I really wrong? Or are they the ones who can't let go? A fresh wave of tears stings my eyes, and I cry out, louder this time, "What do I have to do for them to trust me? To just let me be?" My voice breaks again, dissolving into hiccups and sobs as I curl up tighter, feeling like a caged bird that has forgotten how to fly.

My phone buzzed, pulling me out of my thoughts. I glanced at the screen-Viaansh. His name flashed brightly against the dim light of my room. For a brief moment, I hesitated before swiping to answer.

"Hey, princess," his voice came through, soft and warm, laced with the comfort I didn't realize I needed.

But before I could respond, I disconnected the call, my hands trembling. I couldn't talk to him right now. He'd hear it in my voice, the way it wavered when I cried. He'd know I wasn't okay, and I didn't want to break in front of him. Not now. Not like this.

My phone rang again, the persistent buzz cutting through the silence of my room. I ignored it, pressing my palms against my temples. But it rang again.
And again.
And again.

I clenched my jaw, frustration bubbling over. Finally, I gave up and snatched the phone, swiping to answer. "Hello," I snapped, my voice sharp and biting, hoping it would be enough to make whoever it was stop calling.

"What happened, Aadhira?" a familiar voice asked, soft yet laced with concern.

I froze, momentarily confused. That wasn't Viaansh. I pulled the phone away from my ear and glanced at the screen. Mishri. It was Mishri's name flashing on the caller ID.

"Mishri?" I whispered, still trying to steady my breath.

"Viaansh has been calling you for so long, but you've been ignoring his calls. Are you okay? He's really tense and asked me to call you," she said, her voice filled with worry.

"Mishu..." My voice cracked, betraying the tears I had been fighting so hard to suppress.

"Adhu? Kya hua? Bata na, yaar," she urged, her concern deepening.

And that was it. The dam broke. Words tumbled out of me as I explained everything-every word, every slap, every ache that had carved its place in my chest tonight. I didn't hold back. Mishri listened silently, her occasional murmurs of understanding the only thing keeping me grounded.

"Oh, Adhu... you've gone through so much." Mishri's voice was soft, comforting, yet filled with empathy. "I know it's difficult. I'm a single child, and even I feel suffocated sometimes. Imagine-just two people controlling me, but their full focus is on me. You remember when I got beaten up for drinking cold juice? Just because the doctor had advised me not to drink it a month before?"

I chuckled through my tears, the memory bringing a faint smile to my face. "Yeah, I remember."

She continued, her voice gentle yet firm. "I can't imagine how you feel, being controlled not just by your parents but also by that overprotective brother of yours. But, Adhu, you need to understand that it all comes from a place of love and concern. I know it feels like a prison sometimes, but there's nothing that can't be talked out, right?"

"Hmmm," I murmured, her words slowly sinking in.

"Ab dekh... sabse bada example tu aur tera Viaansh," she said with a teasing lilt. "You both hid your feelings for so long, and look what happened as soon as you talked it out. Everything just... sorted itself. That's the power of communication, Adhu. It can work wonders if you let it."

"I know," I admitted, my voice softer now. "But today's breakdown was inevitable. I had to burst out one day, and... well, that day turned out to be today."

"You're right," Mishri said, her tone understanding. "But promise me one thing-you'll talk it out with your family as soon as you feel like it. No bottling things up again, okay?"

"Yeah, promise."

"Good." Her voice brightened suddenly, the weight lifting. "Now, leave all that for a moment and tell me-how was your date with Viaansh today? I need all the juicy details!"

I hesitated for a moment, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. "Mishu... we... kissed."

"Whattt?? Oh my god! I mean, how? When?"

"What 'how'? Should I give you a practical demonstration or something?" I retorted, rolling my eyes but unable to stop a shy grin.

"Eww! No, thank you-I'm not a lesbian!" she teased, then added with a mischievous tone, "So... tell me, when are you pulling him onto your bed?"

"Mishri! Shut up, yaar. Nothing before marriage!" I said, my cheeks burning at her audacity.

"Ohho... marriage plans already, huh?" she teased, her laughter contagious. But before she could continue, her mother's voice cut through the call. "Mishu, idhar aana beta!"

"Coming, Mamma!" Mishri called back, then returned to me, hurriedly. "Aadhu, I need to go now, bub. We'll talk later. Sending you lots and lots of virtual hugs, okay?"

"Thank you, yaar..." I said, my voice soft with gratitude.

"Bhak, pagli," she replied with her usual flair, and the call disconnected.

I set my phone aside, a faint smile lingering on my face. For the first time that evening, the weight in my chest felt just a little lighter.

A soft knock echoed on my door. I didn't respond, burying my face further into the pillow. Though the anger had long faded, I wasn't ready yet. I needed more time to sort through the whirlwind of emotions swirling in my mind.

"Aadhu... beta, open the door, please. Sorry na," Mamma's voice came through, gentle and apologetic. The tenderness in her tone made my heart ache, softening the edges of my stubbornness.

"Mamma, I need some time," I replied softly, wiping my face. "You don't have to say sorry. We'll talk tomorrow."

A pause. Then her voice came again, hesitant. "You'll not eat anything?"

"I don't feel like it," I answered quietly, staring at the shadows dancing on the ceiling.

Silence. For a moment, I thought she might press further, but instead, I heard her sigh softly and then the faint sound of her footsteps fading down the hallway.

I closed my eyes, the lump in my throat returning. The room felt heavier somehow, yet the quiet was oddly comforting. I needed this time-to breathe, to think, to heal.

I sat comfortably, my mind wandering to thoughts of Viaansh. A smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I imagined a future with him-one so simple, yet so perfect.

We would wake up together every morning, the soft light of dawn spilling through the windows. We'd brush together, shower together-oh, the thought of showering with him made my pulse race. My body tingled with the possibility. We'd get ready side by side, eat breakfast, and go to work, hand in hand. We'd stop by the supermarket, laugh at silly things, then return home, where I'd make dinner while he set the table. We'd eat together, share our thoughts, then relax in front of the TV. And at the end of the day, we'd sleep, tangled in each other's arms, wrapped in warmth and comfort.

It sounded like the perfect routine for a newly married couple. We'd have a cute baby-maybe a little girl with his eyes, or a boy with my smile. We'd teach them to speak, to walk, to study. And when they grew up a little, they'd ask for a sibling, and Viaansh and I would laugh, knowing that our family was exactly how we'd always dreamed.

"Aadhira?"

My eyes shot open, startled. Somewhere in the midst of these daydreams, I had drifted off to sleep without even realizing it.

I jolted upright, my heart racing, as my gaze landed on Viaansh. The shock hit me like a wave, and I quickly glanced around the room. The window was wide open, but the door was locked. I exhaled a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves.

Without thinking, I threw myself into his arms, my body craving the comfort of his presence. Viaansh sat on the bed, his legs spread out casually as I nestled between them. My legs were on either side of his torso, and I wrapped my arms around him, holding him tightly, letting the warmth of his embrace envelop me.

For a moment, everything felt right-his heartbeat against mine, the steady rhythm grounding me. In his arms, I felt safe, as if the world outside didn't matter.

"I needed you." The words slipped out before I could stop them, and tears welled up in my eyes, threatening to spill over.

"I know." His voice was gentle, almost pained.

He gently pulled back, his hands searching my face with careful tenderness, as if trying to erase every trace of the hurt. His fingers lingered on the reddened skin of my cheek, and I could see the guilt in his eyes. A single tear slipped down his face, mirroring mine.

Without another word, he pressed a soft kiss to my right cheek, his lips lingering for a moment. "I'm sorry. This is all because of me."

"No, Viaansh... it's not at all your fault." I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.

He kissed my cheek again, this time lingering for a second longer, before his lips brushed against mine. It was a simple kiss, gentle and unassuming. He barely touched my lips before pulling away, but it felt like the most comforting thing in the world, as if the weight of everything had lifted, even if just for a moment.

"Mishri told me everything that happened," he said softly, his voice tinged with concern but filled with understanding.

I pulled him gently towards the headboard, urging him to sit with his back resting against it. His posture was relaxed, but I could feel the tension still lingering in him. I got up quickly, closing the window with a soft click before returning to his side. Without a word, I sank back into his embrace, letting his warmth wrap around me.

"Leave all that. I'm okay now," I murmured, my voice steady but soft.

He smiled gently, his fingers lightly brushing my hair as he held me close. "Let's talk about something light, something that'll make you smile. Hmm... What were you dreaming about just now? You were smiling so cutely."

I felt my cheeks flush, warmth spreading across my face as I avoided his gaze.

"Okk... So the dream was about me," he said, urging me with a playful grin. "Now tell me..."

"I..." I hesitated, then took a deep breath. "I was dreaming about our married life."

His smile grew wider, and without a second thought, he leaned in to kiss me. "I need details," he whispered, his voice low with curiosity.

"I can't give you details," I replied quickly, flustered. "I'm too embarrassed for that."

"Aree... Why embarrassed? It's just me," he teased, raising an eyebrow.

"That's exactly why I'm embarrassed," I admitted, biting my lip. He pouted, and I couldn't resist.

"Okay, okay," I relented. "I dreamed about how we'd do everything together after marriage. How I'll wake you up from sleep with soft kisses all over your face, whispering sweet nothings to you."

He smiled at me with a glint in his eyes and kissed my temples, his affection palpable.

"I dreamed of how we'd do our morning routine together," I continued, my voice growing softer as I gazed into his eyes. "How we'll shower together, our bodies intertwined, skin to skin, touching each other."

His face turned bright red, and he looked away, clearly surprised. I reached out, gently turning his face to mine. "And?" he whispered, his voice a mix of anticipation and shyness.

I took a deep breath before continuing, my heart racing. "How we'd eat breakfast, go to work together. And how, when we return from work, we'd go grocery shopping together, just... doing everything side by side."

"And?" he whispered, his breath warm against my ear as he leaned in closer, his curiosity palpable.

I smiled softly, feeling my heart swell at the thought. "How we'll return home together, and I'll make dinner while you set the table. Then we'll eat dinner, chatting about our day, sharing laughter and stories. Afterward, we'll watch T.V., relaxed in each other's company. And at the end of the day... we'll fall asleep, cuddled up close, feeling each other's warmth, knowing we're safe in each other's arms."

He looked at me, his eyes softening with a tenderness I hadn't seen before, his voice barely above a whisper. "Aadhira," he began, taking my hands in his, "you've just described the dream I've always had... I never thought it could actually come true, that I could have someone to share everything with-every moment, every day, in the simplest ways. To be with you, to build this life with you... it's all I want."

He leaned his forehead against mine, closing his eyes for a moment, as if trying to absorb the gravity of the words he was about to say. "No matter what happens, no matter how hard things get, I want this with you. I want us, together, every step of the way."

"I love you, Viaansh," I whispered, my voice trembling with the weight of my emotions.

He smiled softly, his gaze intense yet gentle, as if he could feel every inch of my love. "I love you too, Aadhira," he replied, his words soaked in sincerity. "I don't know when the right time is, but... this feels like the right time to do this."

I looked at him, confusion flickering in my eyes. "What do you mean?"

He took a deep breath, his expression serious but filled with hope. "I want you to meet my mother... or, I should say, see my mother. As you know, she's in a coma."

My heart clenched in my chest, tears suddenly springing to my eyes, blurring my vision. I had never imagined that this moment, this offer, would come so soon, yet it felt like the most profound gift he could give me.

"Viaansh," I whispered again, my voice breaking as the tears spilled down my cheeks. He reached out to gently wipe them away, his touch tender, as if he was trying to ease the emotional storm inside me. "This is the best gift. Thank you so much, Viaansh, for considering me capable of letting me meet your mother. I can't even explain how much this means to me."

He kissed my forehead gently, his lips lingering there for a moment as if trying to soothe every unspoken worry in my mind. Then, pulling me into his embrace, he held me close, his warmth a protective shield against the chaos of the world outside.

"Tomorrow, I'm going to talk to my family and make everything clear," I said, my voice firm despite the lingering vulnerability in my tone. "Then I'll also tell them about our relationship. No more hiding."

But he pulled back slightly, enough to meet my gaze, his eyes soft yet serious. "No, Aadhira," he said, his voice calm yet resolute. "This is not the right time. First, solve the tensions at home and let things settle. We will reveal it together, but let's wait a few more days. Let's use this time to know each other even better. Okay?"

His words were laced with understanding, and despite my initial determination, I found myself nodding. "Okay," I whispered, leaning into him once more. In his arms, even uncertainty felt bearable.

We stayed like that, wrapped in each other's warmth, letting the silence speak for us. His fingers gently traced patterns on my back, and I closed my eyes, savoring the moment. For the first time in a long while, my heart felt at peace.

"Promise me," I murmured, my voice barely audible, "that no matter what happens, we'll face it together."

He pressed another kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering there as if sealing my words with an unspoken vow. "I promise, Aadhira," he said, his voice steady and full of conviction.

The sound of the clock ticking in the quiet room reminded me that time was still moving forward, but in this moment, it felt as if the world had paused just for us. With him, I felt strong enough to face anything.

Eventually, he pulled back, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "Rest now," he said softly, his eyes holding mine for a moment longer before he stood.

As he quietly slipped out through the window, I sat there for a while, staring after him, a small smile playing on my lips. Whatever tomorrow brought, I knew one thing for sure: with him by my side, I could handle it all.