Their relationship settles into a beautiful, comfortable rhythm. Kisses hello and goodbye, slow dances in the kitchen, reading together in silence, their feet touching. The physical intimacy deepens—long, lazy kisses on the couch, learning the feel of each other's skin under their palms, but it always remains soft, tender, and full of reverence.
Maya gets a prestigious writing fellowship in another city for six weeks. It's an incredible opportunity, but the news casts a shadow. Old fears resurface for Elara, the fear of being left behind, of being just a chapter in someone else's story.
Seeing the quiet worry in Elara's eyes, Maya takes her face in her hands. "Look at me," she says. "This is a comma, not a period. You are my home, Elara. A six-week comma isn't going to change that." She kisses her, pouring all her promise into it.
The night before Maya leaves, Elara gives her a small, flat package. Inside is a first edition of her favorite book. The inscription reads: "So you never have to be without a good story, or without my heart. Which is yours, by the way." Maya cries, holding the book to her chest.