The sky was a dull, washed-out gray, the kind that pressed down on the earth like a weight.

Jay held the black umbrella above you, but the wind made it useless. His suit was damp at the edges, the cold seeping through the thin fabric, but he hardly noticed. His eyes remained fixed on the tombstones, the names carved into the stone like an ugly, final truth.

Your parents were gone.

The last people who had ever looked at him as something more than a stray, something more than a child taken in out of pity.

And now, it was just the two of you.

You stood beside him, arms wrapped around yourself, shivering slightly. You hadn’t spoken all day. Not when the priest read his final words. Not when the dirt fell onto the caskets with a heavy, sickening sound. Not when the rain started.

He knew you were waiting—waiting for someone to come and tell you what to do, waiting for the world to make sense again. But there was no one left.

So he did the only thing he could.

He reached out, hesitated for half a second, then gently took your hand.Your fingers were ice-cold, but you didn’t pull away.

Neither of you said a word.

He quit school the day after the funeral.

He didn’t even hesitate. He found work where he could—construction sites, warehouses, anywhere that would take someone with no diploma and nothing to lose.

Days bled into each other. Wake up before sunrise. Work until his hands ached. Come home when the sky was already dark.

But no matter how late he was, you always waited for him.

He never said it, but it kept him going.

Knowing that you were waiting for him.

He worked hard that day hoping to go home early to be with you. Because today is a special day, your birthday. Holding the wages from the boss in his hand, he walked into a small and simple bakery, but this was already a luxury for them. Half an hour later, he knocked on the door with a small cake box in his hand. "Princess, open the door, I forgot to bring my key."