The storm stopped by morning, leaving behind a grey sky washed clean.
But inside Amara, the storm still quiet, deep, aching.
She sat near the window wrapped in a blanket, watching thin strips of sunlight creep through the clouds. She hadn't slept. How could she? Not after the words Dapo had spoken.
I still love you.
Let me try again… with you.
She placed a hand over her chest as if trying to calm the fluttering there.
A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.
"Amara?" Dapo's voice was quiet, careful. "Please… let me in."
Her pulse jumped.
"Dapo… I need a minute."
"I'll wait."
And he did. She heard him lean against the door frame, breathing softly. Not demanding. Not angry. Just present.
That was what frightened her most.
This gentle Dapo… this patient man…
He was even harder to resist.
After several minutes, she opened the door.
Dapo stood there, eyes searching her face with a tenderness that made her chest ache. His hair was damp from an early shower, his grey sweater hugging his shoulders, giving him a vulnerable look.
"You didn't sleep," he said softly.
She didn't respond.
He stepped inside, closing the door quietly. "Amara… about last night—"
"Not now," she whispered.
He nodded slowly. "Then tell me what's on your mind."
She moved to sit on the bed. "I'm thinking things feel too fast… too heavy. Like one wrong step and I'll fall back into the pain I worked so hard to leave behind."
Dapo sat beside her—not close enough to touch, but close enough that she felt his warmth.
"I'm not trying to drag you back into the past," he said gently.
"Maybe not," she murmured. "But you're pulling me toward you again. And I don't know if I can resist you."
He let out a shaky breath. "You don't need to resist."
"That's why I'm scared," she said.
He swallowed. "Let me tell you the truth. Everything you never heard."
Amara nodded.
"When I let you go… it wasn't because I stopped loving you," Dapo said. "It was because I didn't think I was good enough. I couldn't give you the life you deserved. I thought pushing you away would protect you."
"You broke me," she whispered.
He closed his eyes briefly. "I broke myself too. Every day. Losing you wasn't protection—it was destruction."
Silence filled the room, heavy and charged.
Then he turned to her, eyes softening. "Amara… let me earn you back. Not with words. With consistency. I'll show you that I choose you, again and again."
Her breath trembled.
"And if I can't trust you?" she whispered.
"Then I'll earn that trust," Dapo said. "Every day. I'm not going anywhere."
His fingers hovered near hers—not touching, but close enough that warmth sparked in the small distance between them.
Amara inhaled shakily.
She wasn't ready to forgive.
She wasn't ready to forget.
But she wasn't ready to lose him either.
And maybe… just maybe…
That meant something.