The rain had started without warning, like so many times in Ana's life.
Small drops hit the cobblestones of the old park where she used to walk as a child, a place forgotten by time but not by her memories. The statues were covered with moss, and the rusted iron benches looked like they had been waiting for decades for someone to sit down again and cry.
And there was Lucian.
Standing, without an umbrella, soaking wet. As if the rain could redeem him. As if every drop washed away a part of his past.
Ana watched him from a distance, feeling her heart pounding in her chest like a drum at war. She didn't know if she should approach, if she should run away, if she should stand still and let time decide everything.
But she walked.
She stepped over puddles with the same determination with which she had walked over glass for years. She walked closer until she had him face to face, and for the first time, he was not the ice prince, not the shadow wolf. He was just a man. Unarmed.
-Why here? -Anne asked, her voice barely louder than the murmur of the rain.
Lucian looked at her, his hair sticking to his face and his eyes more human than ever.
-Because this is where you said, months ago, that if you ever had the chance to choose, you would do it in the rain. Where no one could see your tears.
Ana didn't remember. Or maybe she did. But she didn't think he would have heard it.
-And what are you doing here now? -she insisted, shivering, not knowing if it was because of the cold or because of what was coming.
Lucian took a step toward her.
-I'm letting you choose.
Silence fell between them, heavier than the storm. The minutes melted into droplets that soaked Anne's lips, that wet the earth that had once held her in her nightmares.
-What if I can't forgive you? -What if I can't forget everything you did?
Lucian nodded. There was no pleading on his face. Only truth.
-Then I will go away. And I'll take with me what I was... and what I should never have been to you.
Anne felt a lump in her throat. She remembered the nights in the mansion, the whispers, the muffled screams, the times she thought that to love was to submit. But she also remembered the hands that saved her more than once. The words that, though toxic, were the only comfort in a life of abandonment.
Love is not always pure. Sometimes it is twisted, broken, imperfect. But it can heal, if you let it change.
-I can't promise you everything will be easy," she said. I don't know if I'll trust you tomorrow, or if the wound will bleed again next week.
Lucian looked at her with a different gleam in his eye.
-I don't want you to promise me anything. Just... stay. If you still can. If you still want to.
Ana thought about it for a second. Then she closed her eyes and let the rain soak her completely.
And then she took a step. Just one step.
Enough.
Lucian took her hand, trembling, and Ana didn't let go.
And there, in the middle of a storm that knew no redemptions or happy endings, two broken souls made a silent promise: to keep walking, even with the scars, even with the fear.
Because sometimes, the truest love... is the one that outlives oneself.