The morning sun spilled through the curtains, pale and gentle, brushing against the floor in streaks of gold.
I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the quiet hum of the city drifting through the open window.
For the first time in years, I wasn't thinking about training, about winning, about perfection.
I wasn't thinking about my parents, their expectations, or the endless chain of obligations that had always defined my life.
I was thinking about him.
Calix.
The thought made my chest tighten in a way that was both unfamiliar and undeniable.
I had tried to ignore it before, the little pull in my chest whenever he was near, the strange calm that settled over me when he stayed by my side, the way my heart seemed to search for him without asking.
But now, lying in the stillness of morning, I understood.
I had fallen in love.
The realization was quiet, subtle, like a soft exhale I hadn't known I was holding.
It didn't hit me like a storm.
It didn't demand attention.
It simply was.
I turned my head, expecting to see him still asleep beside me.
He wasn't there.
The bed was empty, yet the warmth lingered, as if he had left a part of himself behind.
A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at my lips.
I had never experienced this before, this calm certainty that someone mattered so deeply that nothing else felt as urgent.
I didn't know how to navigate it, didn't know how to name it.
All I knew was that I wanted it.
I wanted him.
And I wanted him to stay.
I sat up slowly, brushing my hair from my face, letting the sunlight catch on the edges of my cheekbones.
Even in the stillness of the morning, I could feel the weight of it, love.
Something I had never allowed myself to feel, something I had never even considered possible.
It terrified me.
And yet, it thrilled me in equal measure.
Because I finally realized that for the first time in my life, I wasn't afraid of it.
I wasn't afraid of loving someone.
I let myself imagine what it would be like if he stayed, if he stayed not because he had to, but because he wanted to.
My chest ached in the most delicate, tender way.
And I understood something I had never understood before:
Love wasn't perfection.
It wasn't about winning or losing.
It wasn't about control.
It was simply the permission to feel.
And I had given myself that permission, to him.
A long, slow breath escaped me as I leaned back against the pillows.
I had fallen in love with Calix Lazaro.
And nothing in the world had ever felt more certain.
—
Despite the silence, I couldn't stop thinking about him.
Calix.
He was in the unit next door, somewhere beyond the wall that separated us.
Adjacent, but not together.
And somehow, just knowing he was there, close enough to hear a laugh or a faint cough, was enough to make the morning feel different.
Different from any other morning I had ever known.
I poured coffee into my mug, steam curling upward, and stared out the window at the city below.
I could hear a faint knock on my door.
I didn't have to guess.
"Morning," his voice called through the intercom.
Calm.
Playful.
"Morning," I replied, keeping my tone neutral, as if my heart wasn't skipping.
"I'm grabbing coffee downstairs," he said. "Want me to bring you one?"
I hesitated, only for a moment.
"Black. No sugar," I said finally.
"Got it. Ten minutes."
And that was enough for a small thrill to run through me.
I couldn't explain it.
I hadn't even allowed myself to think of it as anything but normal.
But it wasn't.
Not at all.
When he arrived with the cup, I opened the door just enough to take it.
He didn't step in.
Didn't linger.
Just handed it over with a small smile.
"Thank you," I said.
"You're welcome," he said softly, stepping back.
The smallest pause lingered between us, charged with something neither of us named.
A warmth.
A recognition.
I closed the door and leaned against it for a second longer than I should have, the heat of the coffee in my hands grounding me.
—
Later, as I prepared for the day, I found myself glancing at the wall that separated us, half-expecting to hear him moving around, doing something mundane, anything that reminded me he existed in the same world.
I caught myself smiling at the thought.
And for the first time, I didn't push the feeling away.
I didn't resist.
Because I loved him.
And I didn't care that we were only married on paper.
I didn't care that I had never allowed myself to feel love before.
I didn't care that this, whatever it was, terrified me in the most honest way.