“I don’t expect miracles,” she added softly. “Trust takes time. And consistency.”
Daniel didn’t answer right away. He studied her face—the guarded hope in her eyes, the quiet strength it took for her to even say those words. Five years ago, she would have demanded certainty. Promises. Guarantees.
Now, she was asking for effort.
“I can do time,” he said finally, voice steady. “And I can be consistent.”
That did it.
Not the words themselves—but the way he said them. No drama. No urgency. Just certainty, calm and grounded.
She smiled faintly, the corners of her lips lifting like she hadn’t quite decided if she was allowed to yet.
Daniel stood and stepped closer, stopping inches away. Close enough that she could feel the warmth of him, the familiar pull—but far enough to give her space
