Page 146 of Gabriel

“Maybe it is,” I said. “But it’s a beautiful one.”

He squeezed my hand, a soft smile playing on his lips. “I’m glad I’m in it.”

We didn’t find answers in Sweden, but we found hope, and most importantly, we had our love.

And I vowed to myself, when—that’s right,when—his vision returned, we’d be back.

The Miami skyline stretched endlessly beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, a glittering mosaic of high-rises and streetlamps that pulsed like a living heartbeat.

“So this is where you live most of the time?” I asked Gabriel, studying the penthouse with the sleek minimalist design, its black and brushed gold accents, smooth white walls, and soft finishings giving off the effect of an oasis from the concrete jungle.

“Yes.”

“The view is—” I stopped mid-sentence, the words catching in my throat as my chest tightened unexpectedly.

“Yes,” Gabriel said softly, as if he could feel the hesitation ripple through me. “It’s breathtaking.”

I fought the instinct to move toward him—fought the ache in my heart that always twisted when I remembered he couldn’t see the skyline the way I did. Instead, I stayed rooted in place, watching as he navigated the open room with quiet confidence, his cane tapping gently across the polished floor.

When his arms wrapped around my waist, I melted into him, resting my hands on his strong chest. The steady beat of his heart beneath my cheek was the only sound I needed.

“You don’t have to watch what you say around me,preciosa,” he murmured into my hair. “Don’t censor the world on my account.”

I let out a long breath, something between a sigh and an apology, and leaned further into him. His arms tightened around me, grounding me as we stood side by side in front of the vast expanse of glass.

The city pulsed below us, alive and glittering, while inside the penthouse, it was just us. Still. Quiet. A moment suspended in glass and fading sunlight.

He stared straight ahead, eyes blank but posture relaxed. He didn’t need the view to feel it—the heat of the setting sun on his skin.

And I, selfishly, studied every inch of the horizon for both of us, though I didn’t describe it this time.

For once, I let the silence speak.

Because in that moment, it wasn’t about what he could or couldn’t see.

It was about the way he held me like I was the only view that mattered.

My gaze pulled back to Gabriel who stood still.

“Are you watching me again?” His voice broke the silence, deep and slightly amused.

“No,” I lied, too quickly.

He smiled—that smug, infuriatingly charming smile. “You breathe differently when you lie.”

“Now you’re lying,” I said, trying not to smile. “Are we turning into an old married couple with secrets already?”

“Possibly. Now you’ll overthink every breath for the next hour. Victory is mine.” He chuckled, his grin widening.

“You’re impossible.”

“I’m trying,” he said, turning his face toward me.

“To be blind or annoying?”

“Multitasking is a strength of mine.”

I laughed—soft, involuntary. “You’re really okay, though?”