Aurelia's POV
Marriage, I discovered, did not make Vincent Montclair any less annoying.
If anything, it gave him new opportunities.
He now had the legal right to steal food from my plate, occupy my side of the bed when he claimed he was cold, and send me messages from across the house asking whether I wanted coffee.
I had informed him that marriage was not a licence to become a nuisance.
He had kissed my forehead and asked whether I wanted coffee.
I had said yes.
A tragic development.
Our mornings became a collection of familiar arguments.
"You're taking my mug," I told him one morning.
He looked down at the mug in his hand.
"It was on the counter."
"It has my name on it."
He turned it slightly.
It did.
He smiled.
"Excellent. I was hoping to find it."
I stared at him.
"Vincent."
He handed it to me and kissed my cheek.
"Good morning, wife."
I forgot what I was going to say.
He noticed.
Of course he noticed.
"Lost your argument, Vale?"
I took my mug.
"I am allowing you to enjoy a brief illusion of victory."
He laughed.
"How generous."
I kissed him before he could say anything else.
He smiled against my lips.
And just like that, another ordinary morning became one of my favourite memories.
We built our life slowly.
Not in grand gestures alone, but in the small decisions that made a home feel like ours.
We learned each other's routines.
We learned when to give each other space and when to sit beside each other without asking for explanations.
We learned that arguments were easier to survive when neither of us treated them as proof that love had failed.
Vincent still worried sometimes.
I still became quiet when something hurt me.
But we had learned to speak before silence became a wall.
He continued to support my work, even when it meant late evenings and weekends spent reviewing documents.
I continued to remind him that being a brilliant lawyer did not make him qualified to decide when I needed a snack.
He continued to spoil me.
Flowers appeared on ordinary days.
My favourite food appeared when I was too busy to remember lunch.
Books I had mentioned once found their way onto my desk.
And every now and then, a bouquet arrived containing something sour and ridiculous because Vincent had decided that romance should also be an opportunity to demonstrate how well he knew me.
I loved every bit of it.
Not because the gifts were expensive.
Because he paid attention.
Because he remembered.
Because he made the effort to understand the person I was, rather than simply loving the version of me that was easiest to love.
And I tried to do the same for him.
I learned how to recognise the quiet moments when he missed his brother.
I learned not to rush him through them.
I learned that sometimes, the most useful thing I could do was take his hand and stay.
Raze became part of our lives again, gradually building a relationship with Vincent that was different from the one they had lost, but no less meaningful.
Ava stood beside him.
Their relationship grew with honesty this time, and when they finally married, Vincent cried openly.
He denied it.
I have photographic evidence.
I intend to use it for the rest of our lives.
Vincent's POV
There were mornings when I woke before Aurelia and simply watched her sleep.
Not because I was afraid she would disappear.
Because I was grateful she was there.
The distinction mattered.
For years, I had believed that loving someone meant preparing for every possible way the world might take them away.
Now I understood that love also meant allowing yourself to enjoy the time you had.
The quiet mornings.
The unfinished conversations.
The arguments about coffee.
The moments when Aurelia laughed so hard she forgot what she had been saying.
The evenings when we sat together without needing to fill the silence.
I had wanted to protect her from every possible hurt.
She had taught me that I could not do that.
But I could listen.
I could show up.
I could apologise when I was wrong.
I could make sure that the person I loved never had to wonder whether her independence was something I resented.
And I could keep choosing her.
Every day.
One morning, I found her standing by the window, looking at the rain.
I walked up behind her and slipped my arms around her waist.
She leaned back against me.
"Good morning, Mr. Rain."
I smiled.
"Good morning, Little Swan."
She turned in my arms.
"Do you remember the first time we met?"
"Every detail."
"Really?"
"You were standing at the bus stop looking as though you wanted to sue the weather."
She laughed.
For a moment, I couldn't speak .
Then I kissed her.
And when she pulled back, she touched my cheek.
"Still getting shy, Mr. Montclair?"
"Only around my wife."
She laughed.
I drew her closer.
Outside, the rain continued to fall.
And for the first time in my life, I wasn't trying to predict what would happen next.
I was simply there.
With her.
Aurelia's POV
Sometimes, I think about the title of our story.
The Verdict Between Us.
For a long time, I believed a verdict was something a person reached after collecting enough evidence.
A conclusion.
An answer.
A final decision about what was true.
But love had taught me something different.
Not everything could be proven before it was chosen.
Sometimes, you had to trust enough to begin.
Sometimes, you had to admit you were wrong.
Sometimes, you had to let the person beside you remain their own person, even when you wanted to protect them from every possible hurt.
And sometimes, the most important decision wasn't whether someone deserved your love.
It was whether the two of you were willing to keep building something honest together.
Vincent had never completed me.
He had never needed to.
He had simply met me where I stood and loved me without asking me to become someone else.
And I had done the same for him.
We were still stubborn.
Still argumentative.
Still entirely too pleased with ourselves whenever we won a disagreement.
He still stole my food.
I still threatened to sue him.
He still kissed me when I was angry.
I still pretended that it didn't work.
Our life was not perfect.
It was better than perfect.
It was real.
One evening, years of memories behind us and a thousand ordinary days still ahead, Vincent found me sitting by the window with a book.
He approached, took the book from my hands, and placed it on the table.
I stared at him.
"Vincent Montclair."
He smiled.
"Yes, my love?"
"Return my book."
"In a moment."
"Immediately."
He leaned down and kissed me.
I wrapped my arms around his shoulders.
When he drew back, he was smiling.
"Still going to sue me?"
I touched his cheek.
"Absolutely."
He laughed.
I kissed him again.
And somewhere outside, rain began tapping softly against the windows.
I used to hate the rain.
Then I met a man who taught me that the beginning of something extraordinary could arrive disguised as an ordinary day.
A man who became my favourite argument, my safest place, my greatest challenge, and my chosen future.
A man I would choose again.
And again.
And again.
Because the final verdict was never that we were perfect for each other.
It was that, knowing who we were, we kept choosing to become better together.
And that was our forever.
"you Hated Rain right?" Vincent looked at me when he asked this HE KNEW MY ANSWER STILL,
I replied, "Ever since I met you Mr. Rain.
I love Rain because that day i met my love of my life"
The End.