Garrett

The first time I saw her, I knew. Not in the hesitant, maybe-this-could-be-something way. No— this was certainty, absolute and undeniable. Like my soul had been waiting for her, aching for her, long before my mind ever knew she existed. She stood at the edge of the garden, bathed in golden light, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she laughed at something I couldn’t hear. And in that moment, something inside me snapped into place. She is mine. Not in a way that could be owned, but in a way that was fated. As if the universe had carved her name into my bones long before we ever touched. And when her eyes finally met mine—soft, curious, unaware of the storm she’d just woken inside me—I knew I would never let her go. Not in this life. Not in the next.