Page 30 of Her Desire

"That sounds fair," Ava agreed, finally turning to face me fully. "But it also means being okay with not knowing every little detail. Can you handle that?"

I wanted to say yes with all the certainty in the world, but honesty was our new foundation. "I'll try my best. It's going to take practice."

"Which is why I think we should start something new together," she suggested, her eyes brightening with hope. "A shared hobby, maybe? Something fun, stress-free, where we're equals."

"Like couples therapy?" I offered, half-joking, half-serious.

"Or salsa dancing," Ava countered with a genuine laugh. "You know, Miami style."

"Okay, but only if you promise not to laugh at my two left feet." My attempt at levity eased the tension, and her laughter was a melody that soothed my lingering fears.

"Deal. But seriously, Sam, I do think we could benefit from talking to someone. A professional could help us untangle these knots without getting lost in them."

"Therapy," I repeated, the word feeling like a key unlocking doors I'd once thought impenetrable. "Yeah. Yeah, let's do that. Together."

"Good." She reached for my hand; her touch lighter than air but grounding all the same. "We're rebuilding, brick by brick, Sam. And I believe in us."

"Me, too," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. We stood there, hands entwined, watching the waves roll in—a visual ebb and flow of our journey. It was a start, shaky and uncertain, but a start, nonetheless. Together we would learn this dance of give-and-take, leading and following, spinning into a future where trust was our rhythm and love our constant melody.

Chapter 22

Sam

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I wandered into the kitchen, where Ava was humming softly, her petite frame moving with a grace that turned even the mundane act of flipping pancakes into a dance.

"Morning," I said, still groggy but smiling at the sight.

"Good morning!" Ava chirped without turning, her focus on not burning breakfast. "I hope you're hungry."

The table was set for two, a simple but thoughtful arrangement that made our small dining nook feel like a cozy café. I noticed a note next to my plate, Ava's neat handwriting spelling out 'Just because...' followed by a heart. My chest swelled with warmth—a small gesture, yet it held the weight of a thousand words.

Seeing this sweet gesture gave me hope that everything between us would be okay. "Thank you, Ava, this is... really nice." I picked up the note, tracing the ink with my thumb.

"Of course," she replied with a soft smile. "And thank you for last night. The therapy session was tough, but I feel like we're getting somewhere, you know?"

"Definitely," I agreed, feeling a sense of accomplishment. Therapy wasn't easy, but it was ours—our commitment, our progress.

As we ate, conversation flowed easily between us, a tangible sign of the barriers we'd been breaking down. It was in those moments, sharing laughs and syrupy bites, that I could see the outline of our growth.

Later, as Ava left for her pottery class—a newfound passion she pursued with an eagerness that delighted me—I slipped a note into her bag. 'You inspire me,' it read. I didn't need to elaborate. She would know what I meant.

Alone with my thoughts, I reflected on the journey that had brought us to this point. There were times when my possessiveness had nearly capsized us, but here we were, navigating stronger currents. Ava's resilience and kindness were my beacon, guiding me toward calmer shores.

I now recognized how important it was to respect her space and individuality. Love wasn't about possession but supporting and celebrating each other's uniqueness. I had learned to love not just the 'us' but the 'her' in all her independent glory, and the 'me' who finally understood what it meant to be a partner.

We both had our fears and scars, but we were healing them together, stitch by careful stitch. Ava's trust in me was a precious gift, one I was determined to honor every day. And with each small gesture, each shared struggle, and every step forward, we were sculpting something beautiful—a relationship defined not by one's hold over the other but by mutual support and unfaltering commitment.

Chapter 23

Sam

I wish I could say that love and being in a relationship was easy.

Love takes work.

It takes patience.

And it takes a lot of compromise.

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