Chapter 7 Paper Hearts Don't Lie

"You said goodbye without speaking. I answered without knowing. And now we're both pretending the silence wasn't full of everything we meant to say."

The town of Windmere looked different that morning.

Maybe it was the light. Or maybe it was Aria.

She stood on the back porch of Bloom & Vine, holding a single letter in her hand - the first one. The one Kai had written. The one that started it all.

Her eyes scanned the words again, even though she knew them by heart. Every curl of ink. Every pause between the lines.

"I see you even when you don't look up..."

It had been him all along.

Not Elian.

Not the boy who returned with regrets and charm.

But the boy who never left her side - not really - even when she wasn't looking.

Aria hadn't seen Elian in three days.

Not since she found the truth.

He hadn't written again. Not a single new letter. Not even a message. It was as if, now that his mask had been lifted, he had nothing more to say.

She didn't hate him.

In some strange way, she understood him.

He had read something beautiful, wanted to be part of it, and tried to fill shoes that weren't his. Maybe he believed it was harmless. Maybe he thought he could become the boy she wanted.

But words written in pretend love couldn't hold weight.

Not when the real thing had been quietly standing next to her this whole time.

She found Kai in the field behind the library, under the oak tree they used to sit beneath when they were kids. He was sketching something on the corner of a newspaper, legs pulled up, hair a little windblown.

He looked up before she could speak.

"You came," he said.

"I always come back to what's real," she replied.

He blinked.

Then smiled. Just a little.

Aria sat down beside him.

Neither spoke for a while. The wind rustled the leaves above them, and somewhere nearby a bird called once, then again - as if announcing something quietly important.

She pulled the folded paper from her pocket and handed it to him.

Kai took it slowly, recognizing it immediately.

"The first one," he whispered.

"I memorized it," she said. "But I needed to read it again. Out loud. With the right person next to me."

Kai's throat moved with a quiet swallow. "I didn't mean for it to become a mess."

"It didn't," she said. "It became the beginning of something honest."

He glanced at her. "I thought you'd never see me."

"I did," she said. "I just didn't realize it mattered."

Later that night, Aria sat by her window, legs curled beneath her, the breeze brushing her cheeks.

No new letters.

But she didn't need one.

Instead, she opened a journal of her own.

And began to write - not to a stranger, not to a shadow - but to someone real.

Someone with storm-dark eyes and ink-stained hands.

Dear Kai,

I used to think I needed mystery to feel special.

But I realize now... what I needed was to be known - not watched, not imagined, not romanticized. Just known.

And you... you knew me before I even knew myself.

You stayed.

And now, I think I'd like to stay with you, too.

Always,

Aria