As the sun dipped below the trees, casting a soft golden hue across the horizon, it still felt surreal to me. Heinrich was awake. Alive. Breathing. Talking. Smiling. And above all... he loved me. My heart still fluttered every time I thought about it. I felt like some teenage girl with a crush, the way my cheeks constantly warmed, and my stomach danced with butterflies. It was ridiculous—adorable and ridiculous.
Heinrich, the man with the most confusing, infuriating personality—the same man who could be cold as ice in one moment and heartbreakingly tender in the next—had confessed that he loved me. And I believed him. Despite all the walls he’d built around himself, despite the hard exterior, somewhere in the midst of all that complexity, I had found his heart. Or maybe it had found me first. I didn’t know. I just knew that this moment, right now, sitting beside him on our bed, hearing his voice, feeling his presence—it felt like a second chance at everything we almost lost.