THE CARETAKER BRIDE
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By the third kiss, her lips moved hesitantly against mine, soft and unsure, but she was trying.
Relief unfurled in my chest like a gentle wave as I leaned in, brushing my lips against hers. Soft and hesitant at first, the kisses were light—testing, exploring. By the third kiss, Isabella's lips began to move beneath mine, cautious but willing. A quiet sound escaped her, so soft it was almost imperceptible, and she closed her eyes. The small gesture sent a ripple through me, a mix of triumph and tenderness. Her trust, though tentative, was there.