The soft hum of the airconditioner and the distant chirping of crickets were the only sounds in the room. The night had wrapped itself around them like a warm blanket, quiet and still, as if the world itself had paused to witness their reunion.
Keira lay draped against JC’s chest, her cheek resting just above his heart. His skin was warm, his breathing steady. The rise and fall of his chest moved her gently with each inhale—like waves cradling her at sea. She closed her eyes, letting herself sink into that moment. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed this: the safety of his embrace, the rhythm of his heartbeat, the way her world always felt quieter with him in it.
But JC was fast asleep now, his arm loosely curled around her waist, holding her like he still wasn’t ready to let go.
Keira barely moved, not wanting to disturb him. But the weight in her chest, the questions in her mind, and the ache in her heart wouldn’t let her rest. Carefully, she shifted her body, peeling herself away from his grasp one inch at a time. JC stirred slightly but didn’t wake. She sat up, the sheets slipping down to her waist, and reached for the drawer on her bedside table.
There, nestled between an old pen and a packet of sticky notes, was a worn-out notebook.
It wasn’t anything fancy—just a small, black journal with creased corners and her handwriting scattered across the pages like forgotten thoughts. Keira flipped to the back where she had made a personal list during her stay with Jessie.
Then numbers of list she wanted to do in her life 8 of this the were already crossed out
1. Sleep all day. (crossed out)
2. Go shopping. (crossed out)
3. Watch movies at home. (crossed out) 
4. Watch a sunset/sunrise. (crossed out) 
5. Travel to different places. (crossed out)
6. Get a new haircut. (crossed out)
7. Visit my Birthplace (crossed out)
8. Visit Mom, Dad and Katty Allen's grave (crossed out)
9. Reunite with the man I love
10. Blank
Her fingers hovered over number nine. Her heart did a soft twist as she re-read it. The line had been written a few weeks ago, not out of desperation, but out of hope. Quiet hope. A hope she hadn’t dared speak aloud.
Reunite with the man I love.
Tonight, she had done just that. The moment had come, unplanned and unspoken, with kisses and skin and sighs that carried the weight of everything they never said.
With a slow, shaky breath, she picked up her pen and scratched through the line.
Done.
That left only number ten—blank and waiting.
She stared at the empty space for a long time, wondering what should come next. Her heart whispered a dozen ideas, but none of them felt right. Not yet. Maybe later, she’d know.
Keira closed the notebook gently and returned it to the drawer. The room still smelled like JC’s cologne and her lavender sheets. Her skin still tingled from his touch. As she slid quietly back under the covers, JC stirred again. This time, his hand reached for her, pulling her closer even before his eyes opened.
“You’re awake?” she whispered, unsure if she’d disturbed him.
JC hummed softly, eyes still half-lidded. “Couldn’t sleep without you next to me.”
His voice was raspy, thick with sleep, but warm. Familiar. Dangerous.
He shifted, pulling her into his chest, their legs tangling beneath the sheets. His fingers ran softly along her back, trailing goosebumps in their wake. Keira buried her face into the crook of his neck, inhaling him like he was air she’d been missing for too long.
“You okay?” he asked after a beat.
“Yeah,” she whispered.
But she didn’t say more. Neither did he.
Instead, JC’s lips found her shoulder, pressing a kiss there—gentle and slow. Then another on her neck. Then lower. His touch was patient, reverent, as if trying to memorize her all over again.
Her breath hitched.
He turned her gently until she was on her back, his eyes locking with hers in the dim light of the room. “I missed you,” he murmured.
Keira could only nod, her lips parting to say something, but no words came.
He kissed her again, this time not like a man who had been away, but like a man who never wanted to leave again.
The kisses deepened. The heat between them, unspoken and undeniable, ignited again. His hands caressed her body with the familiarity of someone who remembered every curve, every freckle, every scar. She responded instinctively—like her body remembered him too.
They moved in sync, every motion fluid, every sigh filled with longing. JC whispered things between kisses—I missed this… I missed you… I never stopped…—each one landing softly against her lips, her skin, her heart.
Keira's fingers curled into his back as he pressed himself into her, their breaths growing ragged, syncing in rhythm. The sheets rustled around them. The headboard tapped lightly against the wall. She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him closer, deeper, as if trying to merge their souls through skin.
It was not just lust. It was grief and comfort and love wrapped into one tangled embrace.
And when they reached the peak—together this time—it felt like something inside both of them broke free. Like something that had been missing had finally returned.
Afterward, JC stayed pressed against her, kissing her forehead as their breathing slowed. She lay still beneath him, arms around his neck, her heart racing not just from the moment, but from what it meant.
She didn’t say it. Not yet.
But she knew what line number ten might be..