The ride back to Noah's apartment was filled with silence—not the awkward kind, but the kind heavy with unsaid truths.
Mira stared out the window, watching the city blur past. Everything looked familiar and foreign at the same time. Like coming home to a place that didn't wait for you.
Noah's grip on the steering wheel was tight, his knuckles pale. He stole glances at her—trying to memorize every part of her again.
When they finally arrived, she hesitated at the door.
"Are you sure?" she asked quietly.
"No," he said, "but I want to try anyway."
Inside, the apartment smelled like old books, wood polish, and the faint trace of her perfume still lingering in the air.
He hadn't thrown anything out.
Her forgotten sweater still hung on the coat hook. The broken mug she once used to water his plants sat glued back together on the counter.
"You didn't move on," she whispered.
"I tried."
She turned to face him. "I'm sorry. For leaving. For pushing you away. For all of it."
He shook his head. "Don't apologize for surviving."
She blinked hard. "I thought I needed to leave everything behind to become someone. But now I don't even know who that someone is."
Noah walked toward her, gently lifting her chin. "Maybe we figure it out together."
Their lips didn't meet—not yet. There was still too much between them. Regret. Hurt. Longing.
But their eyes met, and it was enough.
For now.
---
Later that night, Mira stood on the balcony wrapped in one of Noah's hoodies, watching the moonlight spill across the city.
He stepped out beside her, holding two mugs of tea.
"You still talk in your sleep," he said with a crooked smile.
She rolled her eyes. "Don't remind me."
They sipped their drinks in silence until she asked, "What happens now?"
He shrugged. "We take it one day at a time."
"And what if we ruin it again?"
He turned to her, voice steady. "Then we ruin it. And rebuild it. As many times as it takes."
Her breath caught in her throat.
Because for the first time in a long time, someone wasn't promising her perfection—just effort.
And that was more than enough.