Arik
Epilogue
From the shadows across the street, I watched her.
My presence was cloaked by the darkness that enveloped the night as the rain fell upon me.
She was in her bedroom—her body trembling as she cried—her tears silently falling in the solitude of her empty apartment.
She had no idea I was here, no inkling of the figure that stood just out of sight, silently observing, silently waiting.
The pain I felt radiating from her body cut through me, but I could not tear myself away, not when she was so close, yet so far out of reach. I felt her anguish as if it were my own, the distance between us only deepening the ache in my chest.
I remained in the shadows, watching her every movement, feeling an unbearable pull to be near her.
As much as it pained me to see her like this, I knew I could not leave.
I would always be here—watching, waiting.
It was an unspoken vow, a promise that, even though she might never fully understand, I would be there in the darkness, guarding her, longing for her.
No matter how much distance she tried to put between us, I would always find my way back to her, drawn by a stronger force than anything I had ever known. I was bound to her, not just by love, but by something far deeper, something that went beyond time and reason.
And so, I would wait—patiently, silently—until the day she could no longer deny that she belonged to me, just as much as I belonged to her.
And I had a feeling that I would not have to wait for long.