That night, Maya couldn't sleep.
Daniel's words kept echoing in her mind.
"I'm not going anywhere."
Those exact words.
The same promise.
The same tone.
The same mistake she once believed in.
She closed her eyes—
And suddenly she was back there.
A year ago.
Rafi holding her hands.
Smiling.
"I'll stay. No matter what."
Her chest tightened.
The memory felt fresh.
Like the wound had never fully healed.
The next day, Maya didn't go to the coffee stand.
She avoided the park.
She avoided the street where they usually met.
She told herself it was better this way.
Distance meant safety.
But safety also felt lonely.
Three days passed.
On the fourth day, when she walked out of her office—
He was there.
Leaning against the wall quietly.
Not angry.
Not questioning.
Just waiting.
When he saw her, he straightened slightly.
"I thought maybe I said something wrong."
His voice wasn't accusing.
It was careful.
Maya looked away.
"You didn't," she said.
"Then why did you disappear?"
Because I'm scared.
Because I don't trust promises.
Because I don't know how to survive another heartbreak.
But she didn't say any of that.
Instead, she whispered,
"I don't believe in staying anymore."
Daniel was silent for a moment.
Then he nodded slowly.
"That makes sense."
She looked at him, surprised.
"You're not going to convince me otherwise?"
"No."
He shook his head gently.
"Trust isn't something I can ask from you. It's something I have to earn."
Something inside her shifted.
Rafi used to argue.
Used to demand reassurance.
Used to say, "Why don't you trust me?"
But Daniel—
He wasn't asking her to believe.
He was offering to prove.
"I don't know how to do this," Maya admitted quietly.
"How to what?"
"How to let someone close without expecting them to leave."
Daniel stepped a little closer—but not too close.
"I can't promise forever," he said softly.
"I can only promise today."
Her heart skipped.
"Today, I'm here."
He looked directly into her eyes.
"And tomorrow, if you let me… I'll still be here."
No big declarations.
No dramatic vows.
Just something steady.
Something real.
And for the first time—
The word "stay" didn't sound like a lie.