The Quiet Between Us.

Ryder's POV

I froze.

She was standing now, her hands at her sides, her eyes soft but guarded. “I don’t know if I can forgive you. But I’m willing to listen... if you really want to prove it.”

I didn’t know what I had expected, but it wasn’t this.

I turned back to face her, my heart leaping in my chest. “I’ll do whatever it takes, Amara. You have my word.”

And this time, when I said it, I meant it.

I stepped closer, the air around us thick with unsaid words. Her eyes flickered to my hand, and for a moment, I thought she might pull away. But she didn’t. Instead, she stood still, her chest rising and falling with each breath, her body frozen like she was trying to decide what to do next. I took the chance. Slowly, I reached for her hand, my fingers brushing against hers, tentative but sincere.

She didn’t pull away.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and gently laced my fingers through hers, feeling the warmth of her skin against mine. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through me, and I could tell it did the same to her.

Her hand didn’t tremble, but I could feel the weight of her emotions swirling beneath the surface. She was afraid. Afraid to trust me again. I could see it in her eyes—the conflict, the hesitance. But she was here, with me, and that was something I wouldn’t take for granted.

“Come with me,” I murmured, my voice low, almost pleading.

She hesitated but nodded, and together we walked, my hand holding hers with a sense of protectiveness that surprised me. It felt natural, like it had always been this way, even though it hadn't.

We found a quiet place away from the chaos of the school grounds—an old garden tucked behind a row of trees, far from the prying eyes of anyone who might judge us. The air here was still, and the silence was comforting. Just us. No distractions. No past mistakes.

I led her to a small bench by the edge of the garden, the soft glow of the fading sunlight bathing us in a gentle, golden light. We sat there for a moment, side by side, neither of us saying a word.

But the quiet between us felt different. It wasn’t uncomfortable. It wasn’t cold. It was... peaceful. For the first time in a long while, I felt like we were on the same wavelength, like we both understood that this moment, however fragile, was important.

I turned to her, my gaze softening as I spoke. “Amara, I know I messed up. And I know that saying ‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t fix everything. It won’t make it better overnight. But I want you to know that I’m trying. I’m trying to be better for you.”

She didn’t look at me at first. Instead, her eyes were trained on the ground, her hands fidgeting in her lap. I could see the hesitation in her—how much she wanted to trust me again, but how terrified she was to open herself up.

“I know,” she whispered, her voice small, but there was a softness in her words that I hadn’t heard before. “I don’t know if I can ever trust you completely again, Ryder. I’ve tried to forget... but I can’t. You hurt me. And it’s hard to just... let go of that.”

Her voice wavered at the end, and I could see the hint of a tear in the corner of her eye. It broke me. But I didn’t look away. I leaned in closer, keeping my voice steady and gentle.

“I’m not asking you to forget,” I said quietly. “I don’t deserve that. I just... I want to show you that I’m not the same person I was. That I can be someone you can count on. Someone who’ll never hurt you again.”

She finally looked at me, her eyes locking with mine, and for a fleeting moment, there was something there—something like hope, but buried deep under layers of hurt.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to let go of everything yet,” she confessed, her voice trembling, “but I want to try. I don’t want to keep running from you.”

Her words were like a balm to the ache in my chest, but they also made the fear in my gut intensify. What if it wasn’t enough? What if I couldn’t prove myself to her?

“I won’t make you rush,” I promised, my thumb lightly brushing across the back of her hand. “We can take it slow. Whatever you need, Amara. I’ll wait.”

She looked down at our hands, then back at me. Her lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but the words seemed to get stuck. Instead, she simply nodded, her gaze softening.

In that moment, I knew that we weren’t fixed—far from it—but we were making progress. One step at a time. And I’d take every single one of those steps, no matter how long it took, if it meant I could finally earn her trust.

“I’m scared,” she admitted after a long pause, her voice barely a whisper. “Scared of what this might become. Scared of getting hurt again.”

I leaned in a little closer, not enough to invade her space but just enough for her to feel my sincerity. “I know. But we’ll take it one day at a time, Amara. No pressure. I’m not going anywhere.”

She met my gaze then, and there was something in her eyes—something fragile, yet beautiful. It was like she was letting herself believe, even if just a little, that maybe, just maybe, we could be something more than just a broken past.

And for the first time in a long time, I felt the weight of hope pressing down on me, even though I knew the road ahead wouldn’t be easy.

But for her? I’d fight for it. I’d fight for us.

“I’m not going anywhere either, Ryder,” she said softly. “Not yet.”

That was enough. It was more than enough.

And as the evening sun dipped below the horizon, I couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something beautiful.