Destiny's POV
I didn't expect Red to arrive so early.
The sun was just beginning to dip beneath the horizon, casting long shadows across the porch when I heard the soft knock at the front door. I was still in the kitchen, barefoot, with my apron dusted in flour and the scent of garlic and rosemary thick in the air. When I turned and saw him standing there—bouquet of roses in hand, his eyes warm and steady—my breath caught.
And then I blushed.
Because there I was, hair in the most unflattering ponytail, wearing the apron I kept meaning to throw away, and still—he looked at me like I was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
When he handed me the flowers, something in my chest cracked open. Just a little.
The ache I had lived with for years loosened its grip. Because in that moment, I knew—I wasn't dreaming. He was really here.
Red. My Red.
Back in my life like the ocean returning to the shore. And for a heartbeat, everything felt right again.
