While Tom and Anna left for the island, Mark stayed behind. For the first time in a long while, he wasn't just the teasing friend or the protective shadow—he was simply a man trying to learn what it meant to love.
Arin was beside him, walking through the city streets in the evening light. Their steps weren't perfectly in rhythm yet; sometimes she would slow down to look at something, and he would pause without saying a word, just waiting.
"You don't talk much," Arin teased, glancing up at him."I talk enough," Mark replied with a faint smile. "I just… like listening to you."
It was new, this closeness. They had been friends as children, but years apart had changed them. Arin was softer now, yet stronger in her own quiet way. Mark was rough around the edges, but his eyes softened whenever they landed on her.
That night, they had their first simple dinner together as a couple. Nothing grand—just street food and laughter. Arin smeared a little sauce on her lip, and Mark, awkward but bold, reached out with a napkin. His hand trembled slightly, and she noticed.
"You're nervous," she said softly."Maybe," he admitted. "It's different now. You're not just… my friend anymore."
Arin smiled, her eyes glowing under the streetlights. "I'm still me. And you're still you." She reached across the table and held his hand, surprising him with her warmth.
The days that followed were slow and filled with little discoveries. Mark would walk her to the places they once played as kids, showing her how much the city had changed. Arin, in return, told him stories of her life with her adoptive family, things she had never shared before.
One evening, they went to the beach—the same place where Mark had proposed. The waves were gentler this time, the wind carrying their laughter. Arin picked shells from the shore, holding them up like treasures, and Mark kept pocketing them quietly, as if saving every moment.
When she stumbled slightly on the sand, he caught her instinctively. She looked up at him, close enough to feel his breath, and for the first time, Mark kissed her. Not rushed, not uncertain—just a steady promise.
"I'll protect you," he whispered after, his forehead resting against hers."I don't need protection," Arin answered, smiling. "I just need you."
And with that, their story began—not as friends who had reunited, but as two hearts slowly learning how to belong to each other.