CHAPTER 130
The Krakow sky burned orange as Xavier opened the door of the black SUV for me. The autumn air bit at my skin, but it felt like the first kiss from the outside world after weeks trapped in the sterile hush of a hospital. My new leg–encased in a sleek, matte–black prosthetic -stood steady on the pavement. Still awkward. But real.
“I want to walk,” I said, stopping the door with my hand before Xavier could help me in.
He looked at me, then nodded. “Alright. But take it slow.”
We walked along the edge of an old road scattered with fallen leaves. My steps were still uneven. My left knee–the donor’s–sometimes felt like a brick that hadn’t quite fused with the rest of me. But I kept walking. Because every step was a rejection of helplessness. Every step was a declaration: I’m still here.”
“Where are we going?” I asked.
Xavier slipped his hands into his coat pockets. “Somewhere you get to choose.“}
I narrowed my eyes. “Choose what?“}
“To stay. Or to leave.“>
I stopped.
“What do you mean?“}
He looked at me with an honesty too raw for a man like him. “You can stand now. You can walk. I kept my promise. Now it’s your turn.”
I looked down the road–gravel, shadows, leftover rainwater on the sidewalk. A world that used to be familiar now felt foreign. And next to me stood a man I once called my captor, then my rescuer, and now… something in between.
Xavier led me to a stone cottage on the edge of town–small, quiet, surrounded by rosemary bushes turning dry with the season. Inside, there was only one suitcase, a phone, a passport with my old name, and a plane ticket back to my country.”
“This is all for you,” he said. “If you want to go back to your old life. No one will stop you.“}
I stared at the suitcase, my chest trembling. My old life? What life? Oliver had buried me. Triplet had forgotten my name. That house… it wasn’t home anymore. And love? Love was a grave deeper than any coffin.”
The silence in that stone house felt sacred. Only the ticking of an old clock and the sound of my breathing filled the space. I sat cross–legged on the cold wooden floor, my palm pressed against it, trying to feel something real. No longer a patient, no longer a fragment of someone I used to be.]
Xavier stood at the threshold, quiet. As if giving me room to either collapse or rise.}]
“I don’t know where to go,” I whispered, not looking at him. “My world is gone.“>
“It’s still here,” he said, his voice low but certain. “Maybe not the way you remember. But you can rebuild it. If you want to.“}
I looked up at him. “With you?“}
He held my gaze for a long moment, like he was weighing something too fragile for logic.
“I won’t ask you to choose, me,” he said at last. “But I’ll be here. If you decide to stay.”>
There was a pause between us–like a space waiting to be filled with a decision, with courage, or maybe just a single touch.
I rose slowly from the floor. Unsteady, but standing.}
“Why are you doing all this, Xavier? Why me?“>
He stepped closer, finally, Not fast. Not forceful. But with a sincerity that hit harder than any of the anger I’d once thrown at him.§
“Yes, I saved you. But in a way… you saved me too. From a life too quiet. From myself.” His breath trembled.}
“At first, I saw you as a rescue mission. Then an obsession. But now… I just see you as a woman who’s still standing, even when the whole world tried to knock her down.“}
I said nothing. Somehow, his words made my eyes burn.>>
“Laura,” Xavier stepped closer, voice falling to a whisper, “I won’t do anything without your consent. So give me one answer.“>
It wasn’t rhetorical. He truly waited for my reply. And that–that was what broke down my defenses.
I nodded.
His hand reached my cheek first–warm, tentative, cautious. Then he traced his fingers to my neck, his thumb brushing the scar just below my left ear, and for the first time, I didn’t feel disgusted by my own body.
I lifted my hand to his face. The faint stubble on his chin tickled my palm. Our eyes locked.
And then he kissed me.
Soft. Deep. Like a prayer. His lips touched mine not out of hunger, but from a need to understand. And as I kissed him back–slow, still shaky–I realized something:
I wasn’t hiding from my life anymore.
His hand slid around my waist, pulling me closer, and our second kiss melted into something deeper, more deliberate. It wasn’t a kiss to erase the pain–but to acknowledge every wound we had ever carried.
I clutched the collar of his coat, felt the strength of his body, and for the first time since the operation, I didn’t feel fragile. I felt wanted. I felt real
1:04 PM
Xavier pulled back first, resting his forehead against mine. Our breaths were heavy, mingling in the narrow space between our faces.
“I don’t want to pressure you,” he whispered.
“I don’t feel pressured,” I replied. “I feel… chosen.“/
A small smile spread across his face. And somehow, that smile made me tremble more than anything we had just shared.
He lifted my hand, kissed each fingertip one by one, like he was trying to return every part of me the world had once stolen.
We didn’t say much that night. We spent it doing things I never imagined–at least not with him.”
Later, we sat on the couch, my head resting on his chest, his fingers softly running through my hair. Outside, the wind rustled through the aging rosemary. Inside, there was just us–two souls too broken to pretend to be whole.
“Do you want to stay here?” he asked out of nowhere, hours later.
I didn’t answer with words. I just held his hand tighter.”
And that night, for the first time since I lost everything, I slept without nightmares.”
I don’t know what the future holds. But that night, I knew one thing for sure:
I’m still alive.”
And I’m not alone.
“Xavier…” He turned when I whispered his name. “I think I’ve found my answer.”}]
“About what?”
“I want to live—with you.“>
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