Five Years Later

The scent of fresh roses filled the kitchen as Faith carefully trimmed the stems, arranging them into a vase. Sunlight filtered through the windows, casting soft golden light over the countertops. The radio hummed quietly in the background, but Faith was more focused on the sound of footsteps—her footsteps—approaching from behind.

Arms wrapped around her waist, and a familiar warmth pressed against her back. “You always wake up too early,” a familiar voice murmured into her ear, husky with sleep.

Faith smiled, leaning into the embrace. “And you always sleep too late.”

The wedding planner—her wedding planner, her wife—huffed in amusement. “Blame my clients.”

Faith turned in her arms, reaching up to trace the sharp curve of her jaw. “You're your own worst client. You spent months planning our wedding down to the napkin folds.”

Her wife smirked, brushing a kiss against Faith’s nose. “And you loved every second of it.”

She had. Their wedding had been nothing like the suffocating ceremony planned for a man she barely knew. Instead, it had been filled with laughter, with stolen kisses behind floral arrangements, with the kind of love that made Faith’s heart ache in the best way.

She reached up, feeling for the delicate ring on her wife's finger. “Still wearing it?”

A scoff. “Like I’d ever take it off.”

Faith grinned, threading their fingers together. She still remembered the weight of expectation, the cold fear of living a life that wasn’t hers. Now, there was only warmth, only the quiet certainty that she was exactly where she was meant to be.

“Good,” Faith whispered, resting her forehead against hers. “Because I’m never letting you go.”