Damien sat just outside her room, elbows on his knees, fingers locked tightly beneath his chin.
He didn't pace. He didn't shake. He just waited.
And that was the worst part.
He heard footsteps, then the soft click of the door opening. He looked up instantly — and there she was.
Ayla.
Not Celeste, not a mystery — Ayla.
Her smile was faint, her eyes still a little tired, but there was something calm in them now. Something certain.
He stood slowly, as though afraid she'd vanish again.
"I was wondering how long you'd sit there," she said gently.
"I said I wasn't leaving," he replied, voice lower than usual.
Ayla stepped closer.
He didn't move, but his heart had started to pound.
"Leon?" he asked quietly, even though he didn't want to.
She nodded. "We talked."
"And?"
She looked up at him fully then, no hesitation. "I told him everything. About how I loved him. About how I remembered. But…"
Damien waited.
"I told him I'm choosing you."
The world went still.
Just like that.
He blinked. Once. Twice. "Say that again?"
"I'm choosing you, Damien."
For a moment, he didn't breathe. Couldn't.
"I didn't want to fall for anyone when I didn't even know who I was," she continued, her voice soft. "But you… you made me feel safe when I was lost. And when I remembered, when everything came crashing back — you were still here."
Something cracked in Damien then. A dam breaking. Not with tears — but relief. Pure, overwhelming relief.
"I thought I was going to lose you today," he admitted, stepping closer. "To death. To him. To the past. I thought…" He shook his head. "I just wanted you back."
"Well," she said with a small smile, "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."
And she reached up — gently, so gently — and touched his chest, over his heart.
That was all the permission he needed.
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in like she was the only solid thing in a world still shaking beneath his feet. Her arms slid around his waist, and they just stood there. No rush. No questions. No fear.
Just two hearts, finally choosing each other in the quiet aftermath.