CHAPTER EIGHT
Wednesday morning. Coffee on the counter. Kael standing there.
But something was different. He was holding something behind his back.
"What are you hiding?" she asked.
He brought it out. A small painting. A cityscape. Queens. Her neighborhood. The street where she grew up.
"I bought it," he said. "At an auction last night. It reminded me of you."
She stared at the painting. The colors. The light. The way the artist had captured the ordinary beauty of her home.
"Kael..."
"I know it's not much. But I thought—"
She kissed him.
Not on the cheek. On the mouth. Soft. Quick. Real.
He went completely still.
When she pulled back, his eyes were wide.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I should have asked—"
"No."
He kissed her back. Gentle at first. Then deeper. His hands in her hair. Her hands on his chest.
When they finally pulled apart, they were both breathing hard.
"Okay," he said. "That was..."
"Yeah," she said. "It was."
---
They stood in the kitchen. Holding each other. Not speaking.
Finally, he spoke.
"I have meetings this morning," he said. "But I don't want to go."
"Go. I'll be here when you get back."
He looked at her. "Promise?"
"Promise."
He kissed her forehead. Then he left.
She stood in the kitchen and touched her lips where his had been.
---
She spent the morning in her studio. Drawing. But she could not focus. Every few minutes, her mind drifted back to the kitchen. To his hands in her hair. To the way he looked at her afterward.
Elena brought lunch. She took one look at Lira and smiled.
"Something happened," Elena said.
Lira could not stop smiling. "Maybe."
Elena laughed. "It's about time."
---
That afternoon, she visited her father.
Antonio was packing. Going home tomorrow. The doctors said he was well enough.
She told him about the kiss. About the painting. About the way Kael looked at her.
Her father listened. He smiled.
"So," Antonio said. "It's real now."
"Yes. I think so."
He took her hand. "I'm happy for you, mija. You deserve this."
She hugged him tight.
---
That night, Kael came home at 6pm.
Earlier than ever. She was cooking. He came up behind her. Wrapped his arms around her waist.
"I couldn't focus," he said into her hair. "I kept thinking about you."
She leaned back against him. "Me too."
They stood like that for a long time. Her cooking. Him holding her.
Dinner burned a little. Neither cared.
---
After dinner, they sat on the balcony. Closer than before. His arm around her. Her head on his shoulder.
"I've never had this," he said. "Someone to come home to."
"Me neither."
He kissed the top of her head.
"What happens now?" she asked.
"Now? We keep going. We keep learning. We keep choosing each other."
She looked up at him. "Is it really that simple?"
"No," he said. "But we can pretend it is. Until it feels real."
"It already feels real."
He looked at her. His eyes were soft. Vulnerable. Open.
"Yeah," he said. "It does."
---
That night, they sat on the balcony until midnight.
Talking about nothing. Talking about everything. His childhood. Her mother. His fears. Her hopes.
When they finally went inside, he walked her to her door.
He kissed her. Slow. Sweet. Long.
"Goodnight, Lira."
"Goodnight, Kael."
She went into her room. She touched her lips. She smiled in the dark.
She heard him walk to his room. Heard his door close.
And for the first time since she moved in, she wished she was in there with him.
CHAPTER NINE
Thursday morning. Coffee on the counter. Kael waiting.
But this time, he was holding something. A small box.
"What's that?" she asked.
"Open it."
She opened it. A key. Simple. Silver. Attached to a small card.
To my wife. For when you're ready. - K
She looked at him. Confused.
"It's a key," he said. "To my room. I thought... I mean, if you want... you don't have to use it. But I wanted you to know the door is open."
She stared at the key. Then at him.
"Kael..."
"I know it's fast. I know we're still learning. But I don't want walls between us anymore. I want you to feel like this is your home. Not just the penthouse. My room. My life. All of it."
She put the key in her pocket. Close to her heart.
"Thank you," she whispered.
He kissed her forehead. Gentle. Sweet.
"I have meetings," he said. "But I'll be home early."
He left. She stood in the kitchen with her hand in her pocket. Touching the key.
---
She spent the morning in her studio. Drawing. Thinking.
The key was in her pocket. She touched it every few minutes.
At lunch, Elena noticed.
"What's that?" Elena asked.
Lira showed her. Elena's eyes went wide.
"He gave you a key to his room?"
"Yes."
Elena was quiet for a moment. Then she smiled.
"I told you," Elena said. "He's different with you."
---
That afternoon, she visited her father.
Antonio was home. His apartment. His own bed. He looked better than he had in months.
She showed him the key. Told him what Kael said.
Her father listened. He nodded.
"He's ready," Antonio said. "Are you?"
She thought about it. About the key in her pocket. About the door that was open.
"Yes," she said. "I think I am."
Her father hugged her. Tight.
"Your mother would be so proud," he whispered. "Of the woman you've become."
She cried a little. He held her.
---
That night, Kael came home at 6pm.
She was cooking. He came up behind her. Arms around her waist. Chin on her shoulder.
"Good day?" he asked.
"Good day. You?"
"Better now."
They cooked together. Him helping. Her directing. It was messy. It was perfect.
After dinner, they sat on the balcony. His arm around her. Her head on his shoulder.
"I showed my father the key," she said.
He tensed slightly. "What did he say?"
"He asked if I was ready."
"What did you say?"
She lifted her head. Looked at him.
"I said yes."
He stared at her. His eyes were soft. Vulnerable. Hopeful.
"Lira..."
She kissed him. Slow. Deep. Long.
When they pulled apart, he rested his forehead against hers.
"I love you," he said.
Her heart stopped. Then raced.
"I love you too," she said.
---
They sat on the balcony for a long time. Holding each other. Saying nothing.
When they finally went inside, he walked her to her door.
He kissed her goodnight. Sweet. Gentle.
She watched him walk to his room. Watched him pause at the door.
He turned. Looked at her.
"The key," he said. "It's not just for coming in. It's for staying. If you want."
She nodded.
He went inside. She stood in the hallway with her hand in her pocket. Touching
the key.
She walked to her room. She sat on her bed. She thought about the key. About his words. About staying.
She got up. She walked to his door.
She knocked.
He opened it. He looked surprised. Hopeful.
"I want to stay," she said.
He opened the door wider. She walked in.