The November night was biting, the cold seeping through my thin t-shirt as Aeri and I stood in the middle of the quiet street, wrapped in each other's arms. The moonlight bathed us in a soft glow, the city hushed around us, only the faint rustle of leaves and the occasional hum of a distant car breaking the silence. We'd just poured our hearts out—her guilt over the years I'd loved her in silence, my promise to make things okay—and the weight of it lingered, heavy but hopeful.
Slowly, we broke from the hug, stepping back just enough to look at each other. Aeri's teary eyes met mine, red and glassy from crying, her face flushed under the streetlight. I smiled at her, soft and warm, trying to ease the guilt I could see in her expression. Her lips trembled, and after a moment, she smiled back, small and hesitant, like she didn't think she deserved to, but couldn't help it.
