Chapter 10 - The Lighthouse and the StormOne year later.
The apartment was still the same—the old brick wall, the narrow windows, the warm kitchen where the radiator still clanked on cold winter nights.
The mustard yellow couch was still in the center of the living room, but now it held photo frames from our trips together, shared books, and the quiet comfort of two lives fully merged.
It was 12:43 in the morning—the exact time Nina had walked into our doorway a year ago.
I was sitting on the couch, reading through a contractor bid on my tablet, when the front door unlocked. Sophie stepped inside, wearing a dark blue coat glistening with autumn rain, holding a bag of late-night takeout.
She didn't look tired or frantic. She looked home.
She kicked off her heels, tossed her keys onto the entryway table without looking, and walked straight over to where I sat. She slid onto my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck and burying her face in the crook of my shoulder.
“How was the gala?” I asked, wrapping my arms around her waist, breathing in the scent of rain and her favorite perfume.
“Brilliant,” she murmured against my skin. “The ice sculpture didn’t melt, the speakers worked, and nobody asked if the staff looked grateful.”
“A miracle,” I smiled.
She pulled back slightly, looking down into my eyes with a soft, content smile.
“I was talking to the event director tonight,” she said smoothly.
“Oh yeah? What did you tell her?”
Sophie grinned, her eyes sparkling under the warm apartment lights.
“I told her about my husband,” she whispered, leaning down until her lips brushed mine. “He’s a quiet guy. Works with his hands. Alphabetizes screws. And he’s the one I talk about every single night.”
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I pulled her down into a deep, loving kiss as the rain tapped softly against the glass, steady and permanent, right where we belonged.
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