together

I gave her a small nod and sat on the bed as she settled beside me. Something deep within urged me to pull her into an embrace, and I did. She clung to me tightly, and in that moment, I could sense the storm of questions swirling in her mind, mirroring the chaos in mine.

Why would a mother stab those people? What kind of mother would do that? What truly killed her? as she a villain? Or was it something else entirely? The doubts, the confusion—they spun relentlessly in my head.

Ariel turned to me, her eyes filled with concern. "Mom, are you sure you're okay?"

I forced a faint smile, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I will be," I said softly. "I'm just struggling to piece together my memories. By the time I'm done, I'll be fine. I promise."

I offered her another weak smile, trying to mask the weight of everything inside me. "I guess the sickness still lingers in my body," I added, my voice light, though the struggle to seem normal gnawed at me.

She needs a mother. And though I am her mother, things are different now. I died. I was reincarnated. Yet here she is, still needing me. The least I can do is pretend—to be the mother she lost, to make up for leaving her all alone back then. It's the only way I can try to atone.

A soft knock echoed through the room, pulling me from the haze of my thoughts. Before I could respond, the door creaked open, and Lucius stepped inside. His gaze immediately found mine, and for a fleeting moment, his expression softened in a way that sent a ripple through my chest. Relief, longing, and something unspoken flickered across his face before he composed himself.

"You're awake," he said, his voice low and gentle, but there was a faint tremor to it, as though he'd been holding something back for too long.

I nodded faintly, unsure of what to say. Ariel, who had been lingering by my side, glanced between us. She hesitated, then stood, giving me a small, encouraging smile before slipping out of the room. The sound of the door closing left an almost deafening silence between us.

Lucius stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate. The bed dipped slightly as he sat beside me. For a moment, he didn't say anything, and I didn't push him to. His presence was steady, comforting, but it also carried a weight I couldn't ignore.

"I didn't know if I'd ever see you like this again," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand rested on his knee, fingers curling and uncurling as if they had a mind of their own.

"I don't know if I'm the same person you've been waiting for," I admitted, my voice brittle. "I don't even know who I am anymore."

He turned to look at me, his dark eyes searching mine. "You're Kiara," he said, the conviction in his tone startling me. "You're here, alive, and that's all that matters. Whether you believe it or not, you matter."

I looked away, the intensity of his gaze too much to bear. "It doesn't feel like I matter," I said quietly. "Not when I'm just... borrowing someone else's life. Her memories, her choices—they're not mine."

Lucius leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "I won't pretend to understand what you're going through," he said, his voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of emotion. "Waking up in a body that doesn't feel entirely your own... carrying the weight of a life you didn't choose. It's not fair. But Kiara, you're not just borrowing her life. You're living it. And you have every right to make it your own."

I glanced at him, surprised by the raw honesty in his words. "You make it sound so simple," I said, a bitter edge creeping into my tone.

"It's not simple," he admitted. "It's messy, painful. But it's also real. And it's yours to shape."

There was a long pause, the kind that felt heavy with everything left unsaid. Finally, he turned to me, his expression softening. "Do you remember anything about us?" he asked, his voice so quiet it was almost a whisper.

The question caught me off guard, and I felt my cheeks flush. "Bits and pieces," I said hesitantly. "It's like looking through a cracked window—some parts are clear, but most of it is fractured."

He nodded, as if he understood exactly what I meant. "I don't need you to remember everything," he said. "I just need you to know that what we had... it was real. And no matter how much time has passed, no matter how much has changed, I'll never forget it."

The sincerity in his voice sent a shiver down my spine. I turned to face him fully, my heart pounding in my chest. "Lucius... I don't know if I can be what you need me to be," I confessed, my voice trembling.

His gaze softened, and for the first time, he reached out, his hand brushing against mine. "I don't need you to be anything other than who you are," he said, his fingers lingering against my skin. "You don't have to remember everything, and you don't have to figure it all out right now. I'm not here to rush you or to demand anything from you. I'm just here. For you."

The warmth of his touch seeped into me, and for a moment, it felt like the chaos in my mind quieted. "Why?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "Why are you still here?"

His lips curved into a faint smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Because I promised myself a long time ago that I'd never leave you," he said. "Not then, not now. Not ever."

The weight of his words settled over me, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the walls I'd built around myself began to crack. I didn't know what the future held or if I could ever truly bridge the gap between who I had been and who I was now. But as I sat there, his hand resting gently over mine, I felt a flicker of something I thought I'd lost entirely—hope.

"Lucius," I began, my voice wavering, "I don't know where this will lead. I don't know if I'll ever be the person you once knew, or even someone worth waiting for."

He leaned in slightly, his voice low and steady. "You don't have to be worth waiting for," he said. "You're already enough, just as you are."

The intensity of his gaze made my breath catch, and for a moment, the space between us felt impossibly small. His hand moved to cup my cheek, his touch gentle yet grounding. "You don't have to have all the answers right now," he said softly. "Just let me be here with you. That's all I ask."