Iris. Wednesday, 31st March. Two days later… Morning. The rain is pouring again. Everything is wet. The dull gray sky does nothing to ease the heaviness pressing down on us. Gerald sits behind me, alive, breathing, real, as I stare out the open window in the living room. He’s alive. He never died. It was all a mirage from Eliora. I am happy. I am extremely so happy. But the wounds his absence carved into me, they don’t just disappear. Not like that. Not overnight. I hear him rise. Feel him before I see him. The air shifts as he closes the distance between us. Then his arms slide around me from behind, warm, solid and grounding. “Are you equally unhappy to see me?” He murmurs. His lips brush the shell of my ear. A soft sound escapes me, half moan, half breath. My chest swelling with relief, with peace, with a happiness so overwhelming it almost hurts. Slowly, I turn in his arms. “I am the happiest woman on earth,” I whisper. “You came back.” I lean in and kiss him. We hold e
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