BONUS CHAPTER

“Nothing simply happens; the world is a clockwork of purpose, ticking with intent.

And what a plot twist this turned out to be.”

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Love is terrifying—utterly, breathtakingly terrifying. Especially in those early moments when it starts to stir, like the first flicker of a match in the dark. It begins as a subtle spark, almost imperceptible, gradually kindling into something that could either warm your soul or consume you entirely. I want this love to be the kind that burns slowly, a gentle, steady flame that sustains me. Not a raging inferno that devours everything in its path, leaving only ashes.

 

The airport was alive with the relentless bustle of travellers, each caught in their own world. The distant clatter of rolling suitcases blended with murmured conversations, creating a constant hum that vibrated through the air. Bright fluorescent lights cast a cold, artificial glow over everything, reflecting off the glossy tiles of the terminal floor.

 

“Now boarding flight 406 to Newark,” the attendant’s voice echoed through the cavernous space, crisp and impersonal, cutting through the low drone of the crowd.

 

My heart pounded as the words settled over me, a reminder that time was slipping away. A swarm of butterflies erupted in my stomach, their wings beating furiously against my insides.

 

This was it—the point of no return. The moment when everything could shift, for better or for worse.

 

“Ready?” His eyes met mine, deep pools of quiet concern, reflecting the anxiety that I struggled to conceal. In their gaze, I found both a question and a reassurance, as if he could see the storm brewing within me.

 

I swallowed hard. I was ready. I had always longed for this.

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As a little girl, lost in the pages of Disney princess stories, I had dreamed of a love that would sweep me off my feet, a love that was unwavering and all-encompassing. That dream lingered even as I grew older, through relationships I believed would stand the test of time. But when those relationships crumbled, I spent countless nights crying, questioning if anyone would ever love me enough. Wondering if I was enough to be truly loved.

 

My mind raced, the noise of the airport fading into the background as my thoughts spiralled. What if I wasn’t ready? What if all those nights spent dreaming and yearning had built this moment into something it could never be? But there was no turning back now, no retreating into the safety of the past.

 

He reached for my hand, his touch grounding me in the present. His warmth seeped into my skin, a silent reassurance that I wasn’t alone in this. I looked up at him and saw the same flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, the same hope that we could build something real together.

 

There are so many things I love.

 

The richness of hot chocolate made with whole milk—a sweet indulgence that feels almost like a secret sin in 2024. 

The early morning mist at 5 a.m., when the world is wrapped in a gentle veil, and everything feels hushed and full of promise. 

Facetimes with Grace, where words aren't necessary, and we simply exist together, sharing our lives in quiet companionship. 

The taste of grapefruit, especially when it’s just the right mix of sweet and sour, like a kiss that lingers on your lips. 

The thrill of discovering a new perfume that feels like it was crafted just for me, capturing the essence of who I am. 

And the magic of clicking shuffle on Spotify, only to have the perfect song play—like the universe knows exactly what my heart needs to hear.

 

I have no resistance to loving these things. So why am I so afraid to love him and let him love me?

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The overhead speaker crackled again, announcing another boarding call for our flight. “Anna?” His eyes searched mine, confusion flickering in them.

 

I took a deep breath, squeezing his hand as I nodded. “I’m ready,” I whispered, more to myself than to him. I wanted desperately to believe it, but a part of me knew I might never feel entirely prepared. Love isn’t something you master all at once; it’s something you grow into, discovering it together, moment by moment, day by day.

It’s in the shared glances, the squeeze of a hand on my leg, the way my fingers thread through his hair. It’s in the way he orders my coffee just the way I like it, without me needing to say a word. Love is laughter so intense it turns soundless. To be loved is to be heard. To be loved is to be seen.

Love is the way our bodies find each other in the sheets, limbs tangled in the dark, where words aren’t needed because our touch says everything. It’s the warmth of his skin against mine, the gentle weight of his arm draped over me as we fall asleep. It’s the quiet moments just before dawn, when we’re still wrapped up in each other, the world outside fading away. It’s in the soft whispers in the dark, the way his breath tickles my neck, and how we fit together seamlessly in the stillness of the night. Love is limbs intertwined, breaths shared, a dance of intimacy that feels like home.

 

Love is complicated, and yet, it’s simple. It’s a decision. And I choose, every day, despite my fears—to love.

In an instant, he appeared. And I couldn’t sleep, because my soul recognised him as everything I’d ever wanted, and so much more.

 

I had been searching for him in every man I dated, every man who touched me, every kiss I gave. But each time, disappointment followed, because none of them were him. They lacked his spirit, his eyes, his quick wit.

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We walked toward the gate; each step heavy with the weight of possibility yet light with the thrill of what could be. With every stride, I felt the fear loosening its grip, replaced by a growing sense of determination.

 

This was it. This was love. Utterly, breathtakingly terrifying.

 

Settling into my seat on the airplane, I rested my head against the window. As the plane started to move, I felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. I watched the ground below slowly fade away, the patchwork of fields and roads blending into a blur of colours. The familiar cityscape became a distant memory, disappearing beneath a blanket of clouds.

The steady hum of the engines and the gentle vibrations of the plane were soothing. I closed my eyes briefly, savouring the ascent as the world outside grew smaller, like we were being lifted into a new chapter.

 

“So, I had an idea,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing as he nudged me with his shoulder.

 

I glanced up at him, intrigued. “Hmm?”

 

He leaned in, his breath warm against my ear. “When they start serving lunch, we sneak into the first-class bathroom and—”

 

I laughed, cutting him off with a playful groan. “Oh god.”

 

“What?” His grin widened, clearly amused by my reaction.

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“No,” I said, shaking my head but unable to suppress the smile spreading across my face.

 

“I was actually going to suggest we wash our hands with the fancy soap,” he said with a cheeky glint in his eye. “But if you prefer to be gross, keep your germs.”

 

I rolled my eyes and gave his arm a playful shove.

 

His laughter mixed with mine, and for a moment, the weight of what could be – lifted. The weight of what the future held, disintegrated.

 

It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. I just wanted to feel—because to feel deeply is a privilege, not a burden and I refuse to go through life without letting every moment, every touch, and every whisper fully pass through me.

 

“You’re lost in thought,” he murmured, his hand tightening around mine. I sighed, the weight of the decision hanging between us. “This is a big change.”

 

I nodded, a hesitant smile tugging at my lips. “I know… What if it doesn’t work out?” The question slipped out, unguarded and vulnerable.

 

“Then it doesn’t,” he replied softly, his voice a calm anchor. “But I’d rather take the risk than not.”

 

I leaned into him, resting my head on his shoulder, letting his strength steady my doubts. “Me too.”

 

If he was willing to take the leap, I was ready to fall with him.