My research was filled with broken healing processes, silver toxicity patterns, showing beauty in imperfection and recovery.This was my story, etched in formulas and experimental data.One late night, Jacob found me in the laboratory, surrounded by test tubes and empty coffee cups.He brought me pasta from his favorite little restaurant.He didn't say much, just sat beside me, his presence bringing quiet comfort.I remembered when we first met.I had been sensitive and distant, wary of any kindness.But he was persistent, yet gentle and humble.He would show up at the student café with an extra pastry, or leave a healing theory book he thought I'd like outside my door.He never pushed, never pried.He just... saw me.He understood my research, understood the unspoken pain woven into my work.He looked at "Fragments of Restoration" not just as a thesis, but as a reflection."This is about resilience, isn't it?" he said once, looking at one of my early molecular diagrams. "Taking the br
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