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“You’re not losing anything,” Blaze says, stepping closer. He cups my cheek. “You’re gaining something more, and you have someone to share it with. Someone who’s not going anywhere.”
I lean into his touch, closing my eyes momentarily, letting his words sink in. He’s right. I’m not losing who I was—I’m justadding to it. I’m stepping into something new, something that’s terrifying but also beautiful.
And I’m not doing it alone.
The candle’s surface shimmers in the morning light, already beginning to set. Like us—transforming into something new, something stronger. My fingers find his, squeezing gently.
“I’m ready,” I whisper, the words trembling but true.
He lifts the first box, muscles flexing beneath his shirt. I cradle our candle, this final piece of my old life becoming the first piece of our new one.
At the door, I pause. Turn back. The empty apartment glows golden in the morning sun. So many memories—good and bad, painful and precious.
“Thank you,” I whisper to the space that sheltered and protected me. The space that helped me survive.
“Ready to go home?” Blaze’s free hand finds the small of my back. Blaze’s eyes shine with pride and something deeper, something that makes my heart swell. He takes my hand, and together, we step out of the apartment and into the light of a new day.
The boxes are loaded, and the last piece of my old life sits in my lap as I settle into the car. The candle. It’s still warm, the wax not yet fully set, and I hold it close, feeling its weight. This candle is everything—the past, the present, and the promise of a future. It’s my reminder that I’m capable of creating light, even in the darkest of places.
Blaze starts the car, his hand finding mine, fingers lacing together. “Ready to see your new home?”
Home.
It’s not a place.
Home is a person.
It’s the wonderful man beside me.
Blaze.
I step into tomorrow and a life filled with love. As we drive away, I look back one last time. The building stands tall—if not a bit crooked—bathed in morning light, a place that once held all my fears and hopes. I whisper my thanks and goodbye, then turn forward and face my future.
I smile, tears slipping free, but they’re not tears of sadness. They’re tears of hope, of joy, of something I never thought I’d have—a life worth looking forward to.