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I nod, swallowing hard against the lump in my throat. "I know. It's really over, isn't it? We don't have to run anymore."

"No more running," Koda confirms, his voice a comforting rumble. "Unless it's towards something instead of away from it."

The simplicity of his statement breaks through the last of my defenses. Tears fall, months of fear and tension releasing in a cathartic flood. Koda pulls over to the side of the road, unbuckling his seatbelt to gather me into his arms.

I cry into his chest, his shirt growing damp with my tears. He holds me through it all, one large hand stroking my back soothingly. When the sobs finally subside, I look up at him, seeing nothing but love and understanding in his yellow eyes.

"Sorry," I hiccup, feeling a bit embarrassed by my breakdown.

Koda shakes his head, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "Never apologize for feeling, little chef. You've been so strong through all of this. You're allowed to let it out."

His words, so at odds with the gruff exterior he shows the world, warm me from the inside out. I stretch up to kiss him, pouring all my love and gratitude into the gesture.

When we part, Koda's eyes are glowing with an intensity that takes my breath away. "I love you," he says simply. "More than I ever thought possible."

"I love you too," I reply, the words feeling inadequate for the depth of my feelings.

We sit there for a moment longer, just holding each other, before Koda reluctantly pulls away. "We should get going," he says. "Lou's expecting us."

I nod, settling back into my seat as Koda starts the truck again. As we drive through the quiet streets of New Orleans, a city I once thought I'd never see again, I let my mind wander to the future.

The dream of our restaurant feels more real now than ever before. I can almost smell the blend of Vietnamese spices and hearty orc fare, and can almost hear the laughter of satisfied customers. It's a future I never could have imagined for myself, but now I can't picture any other.

"What are you thinking about?" Koda asks, glancing over at me.

I smile, reaching out to place my hand on his thigh. "Our future. The restaurant. Everything we're going to build together."

Koda's answering smile is soft, a rare expression on his usually stern face. "Sounds perfect to me, little chef."

As we drive into the dawn of a new day, I feel a sense of peace settle over me. The road ahead is uncertain, but for the first time, it's ours to choose. Whatever challenges come our way, I know we'll face them together.

My orc and I, bound by love, tested by fire, and stronger for it all. Our story is just beginning, and I can't wait to see where it leads.

Fourteen

Koda

As we pull up to my apartment building, reality sets in. I haven't been here in months, and I left in a hurry. I can only imagine what state the place is in. "Home sweet home," I say, killing the engine. Pamela's still grinning as she hops out of the truck, practically bouncing on her toes as she waits for me to unlock the front door.

The moment I swing the door open, I'm hit with a wall of stale air and the faint smell of something that probably used to be food. Pamela peeks around me, her eyes widening as she takes in the scene.

To say the place is a mess would be an understatement. There are clothes strewn across every surface, empty takeout containers piled on the coffee table, and a fine layer of dust covering everything. A stack of unopened mail has cascaded across the floor, and I'm pretty sure that plant in the corner is more dead than alive.

"Well," Pamela says, her voice trembling with barely contained laughter. "I guess we know what I'm doing first."

I turn to her, ready to apologize, but the look on her face stops me. Her eyes are dancing with mirth, and suddenly, I can't help but see the humor in the situation.

A chuckle escapes me, deep and rumbling. "Guess I should've hired a cleaning service before we went on the run, huh?"

That does it. Pamela bursts into laughter, the sound filling the stale apartment with life and joy. I join in, and soon we're both doubled over, tears streaming down our faces as we laugh harder than we have in months.

"Oh God," Pamela gasps between giggles. "Is that... is that a pizza box growing fur?"

I peer at the offending item. "Might be. Or it could be my new pet. I'm thinking of naming it Fluffy."

This sets us off again, and we collapse onto the dusty couch, sending up a cloud that only makes us laugh harder.

As our laughter finally subsides, Pamela wipes her eyes and looks around the apartment again. "You know," she says, still grinning. "In a weird way, this is perfect."