She cried herself empty in his arms that night, tears soaking into his shirt as he held her close, murmuring steady, reassuring words against her hair. He whispered promises, strength, faith anything to anchor her breaking heart.
And then morning came.
It was time.
Sofía couldn't pull herself together. The terrifying thought that he might leave and never return clawed at her mind, refusing to loosen its grip.
Fernando lifted his hand and cradled her cheeks in his large palm, his thumb brushing gently beneath her eyes to wipe away her tears. She leaned into his touch instinctively, covering his hand with both of hers as if trying to memorize its warmth. Pressing a soft kiss into his palm, she felt his chest tighten beneath the fragile gesture.
"You have to be strong," he said quietly.
She nodded, though her voice broke when she answered, "I'm trying."
He drew her into him and kissed her.
