Chapter Text
When she turned into her driveway, Aaliyah’s heart skipped a beat. Cruz was sitting on the porch steps, a bouquet of wildflowers in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other. She was wearing that effortless smile that always managed to soften Aaliyah’s rough edges.
Aaliyah parked the car and stepped out, her heart swelling with affection and disbelief.
“Hey, baby,” Cruz called, standing and walking toward her. “How was your first day?”
Aaliyah couldn’t help but grin as Cruz wrapped her free arm around her waist, pulling her in for a sweet, lingering kiss.
“It was… amazing,” Aaliyah admitted, her voice soft. “I was so nervous, but it went better than I could’ve hoped.”
“I knew it would,” Cruz said confidently, handing her the flowers. “You’re incredible, Aaliyah. And I thought we could celebrate.” She held up the champagne with a playful flourish.
Aaliyah laughed, the tension of the day melting away. “You’re ridiculous,” she said, but her tone was affectionate.
As they walked toward the house, Aaliyah glanced at Cruz out of the corner of her eye. She felt a pang of something deeper—a quiet longing, a flicker of what could be.
I could get used to this, she thought, imagining what it would be like to come home to Cruz every day. But she pushed the thought aside, grounding herself in the present. They still had things to work through, and she wasn’t ready to dive in entirely just yet.
Aaliyah leaned back against the soft cushions of her living room sofa, a warm glow from the overhead lamp casting a golden hue over the room. The smell of the fancy Thai takeout Cruz had ordered lingered in the air, mingling with the faint scent of the lavender candle Aaliyah had lit earlier. It had been the perfect end to her day—a thoughtful dinner, Cruz’s excitement for her first day of classes, and the ease of simply being in each other’s presence.
She glanced sideways at Cruz, who was lounging in her usual carefree way on the other end of the couch, scrolling lazily on her phone. Cruz had insisted on the takeout as a small celebration for Aaliyah’s successful first day, dismissing Aaliyah’s protests about not needing to splurge.
“You deserve this,” Cruz had said with a grin earlier as she clicked through the menu on her phone. “Big milestones call for big meals.”
Now, the remnants of their feast—half-empty containers of pad see ew and green curry—were strewn on the coffee table, along with two glasses of wine that Cruz had poured to toast Aaliyah’s first day.
“So,” Cruz said, stretching her legs and turning to face Aaliyah. “Tell me more. What was the best part?”
Aaliyah closed her book and smiled, her fingers tracing the edge of its worn cover. “Honestly, I think it was just… being there. I was so scared I wouldn’t fit in, that I’d feel out of place. But my professors were amazing, and my classmates were actually really kind. It felt like… I don’t know, like I was supposed to be there.”
Cruz’s face lit up, her excitement palpable. “That’s amazing, babe. I knew you’d kill it. You’re too brilliant not to shine in a place like that.”
The warmth in Cruz’s voice made Aaliyah’s chest tighten with emotion. It wasn’t just the words but how Cruz said them—like she genuinely believed in Aaliyah, no questions asked.
“Thank you,” Aaliyah said softly, her voice thick with gratitude. “For… everything. The dinner, the encouragement. Just… you.”
Cruz reached out and gave her knee a gentle squeeze, her touch grounding Aaliyah in the moment. “Always,” Cruz replied.
Aaliyah had returned to her book, the soft rustle of pages filling the room as Cruz got up to peruse the bookshelves along the far wall.
“You’ve got quite the collection,” Cruz said over her shoulder, her tone light. “Let me guess, most of these haven’t been read yet?”
Aaliyah smirked. “Some of them are aspirational,” she admitted. “But I’ve made it through a good chunk.”
Cruz hummed in response, pulling out a few titles and flipping them over to read the back covers. Aaliyah returned to her book, the quiet companionship filling the space with a rare and precious peace.
A few moments later, Cruz’s voice broke the silence.
“Hey, what’s this?”
Aaliyah glanced up to see Cruz holding a small, leather-bound journal, its corners slightly worn from use. Recognition hit her immediately—the journal Dr. Becerra had given her during their therapy sessions, the one Aaliyah had poured so much of herself into over the past year.
Cruz held it up, her expression curious but respectful. “Is this yours?”
Aaliyah sighed, setting her book down on the coffee table. She felt a mix of emotions—hesitation, vulnerability, and a strange sense of inevitability.
“Yeah,” she said, her voice quieter now. “It’s… my journal. Dr. Becerra gave it to me when I started seeing her.”
Cruz’s brows furrowed slightly as she stepped closer, still holding the journal but not opening it. “I didn’t mean to snoop. It was just sitting there, and I got curious.”
Aaliyah waved a hand, indicating it was okay. “It’s fine. I’m not upset or anything.”
Cruz hesitated, then sat back down beside her, the journal resting in her lap. “Can I ask what it’s about? I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
Aaliyah leaned back against the cushions, staring at the journal in Cruz’s hands. It felt like a symbol of everything she’d been through—her pain, her growth, her journey to reclaim herself.
“It’s kind of a mix of things,” Aaliyah began, her voice thoughtful. “When I started therapy, Dr. Becerra suggested I write down my thoughts—things I was feeling, stuff I couldn’t say out loud. It was hard at first, but… it helped. A lot.”
Cruz nodded, her expression soft and attentive. “That makes sense. Writing things down can be freeing, I guess.”
“It is,” Aaliyah said, her gaze distant as she thought about the nights she’d spent scribbling in that journal, pouring out her fears and doubts. “Sometimes it felt like the only way I could make sense of everything.”
Cruz reached over and placed a hand on Aaliyah’s knee, her touch gentle. “I’m proud of you,” she said, her voice steady. “For doing the work, for facing it all head-on. That takes serious strength.”
Aaliyah’s throat tightened at Cruz’s sincerity. She’d come a long way, but hearing someone she cared about acknowledge it made the journey feel even more real.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, her eyes meeting Cruz’s. Aaliyah cleared her throat, the words getting stuck, “I think it’s time we talk.”
--
She took a deep breath, staring down at her fingers. “I’ve been… carrying something,” she began, her voice low and measured. “Something I haven’t really said out loud because I didn’t know if I could.”
Cruz’s gaze softened, though the lines of tension in her body remained. “You can say anything to me,” she said quietly.
Aaliyah met her eyes, her throat tightening. “I don’t know if that’s true.”
The words landed heavily in the space between them, and Cruz flinched, but she didn’t look away.
“I’ve been trying so hard to move forward,” Aaliyah continued, her voice trembling slightly. “To let myself heal, to find some sort of… peace. But it’s hard, Cruz. It’s so hard when I think about everything that’s happened. My father, Ehsan… and your part in all of it.”
Cruz’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t interrupt. She nodded once, her eyes locked on Aaliyah’s.
“I know you didn’t… I know you didn’t mean for any of it to happen the way it did,” Aaliyah said, the words tumbling out faster now. “But that doesn’t make it any easier. My father is dead. Ehsan is dead. And you… you were there. You were part of it.”
Cruz exhaled sharply, sitting back in the chair. She ran a hand over her face, her expression anguished. “I know,” she said, her voice rough. “You don’t think I know that? I live with it every day, Aaliyah. Every single day.”
Aaliyah’s chest tightened at the rawness in Cruz’s voice, but she pressed on. “You were instrumental in the plan, Cruz. Part of the whole operation. You knew what the end goal was.”
Cruz’s face crumpled slightly, her hands falling to her lap. “I knew,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “It was my job… it was never supposed to be just your father. I didn’t plan to hurt Ehsan… hurt you.” She trailed off, her voice breaking.
Aaliyah’s head snapped up, her voice rising. “They died, Cruz. And now I’m supposed to just… move on? Pretend it doesn’t haunt me every day?”
Cruz stood abruptly, pacing the length of the room. She looked like she wanted to punch something, her hands clenched tightly at her sides. “You think it doesn’t haunt me?” she demanded, her voice shaking. “You think I don’t see their faces every time I close my eyes? I killed them, Aaliyah. I know that. I know I’ll never forgive myself for what happened.”
Aaliyah stood, too, her hands shaking as she faced Cruz. “And what am I supposed to do with that, huh? Just accept it? Just… let it go?”
“I don’t know!” Cruz yelled, her voice cracking. “I don’t know what you’re supposed to do. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do. But I know I can’t change what happened, no matter how much I wish I could.”
The room fell into a heavy silence, both breathing hard, their emotions raw and exposed.
Aaliyah felt tears pricking at her eyes, and she swallowed hard, her voice quieter now. “I loved my father, Cruz. He wasn’t perfect, but he was my dad. And Ehsan… for all his faults, he didn’t deserve to die like that.”
Cruz’s shoulders sagged, and she turned to face Aaliyah, her expression shattered. “I know,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “I know they didn’t. And I’m sorry, Aaliyah. I’m so sorry for everything. If I could take it back, I would. In a heartbeat.”
Aaliyah stared at her, the weight of Cruz’s words settling over her like a heavy blanket. For a long moment, she didn’t say anything, her mind racing with everything she’d been holding inside.
And then, finally, she spoke.
“I forgive you,” she said, her voice trembling.
Cruz’s eyes widened, her breath hitching. “What?”
“I forgive you,” Aaliyah repeated, tears streaming down her face. “Not because it’s easy, and not because it erases what happened. But because I can’t keep carrying this. I can’t keep holding onto all this anger and pain. It’s killing me, Cruz. And I don’t want it to anymore.”
Cruz crossed the room in two long strides, pulling Aaliyah into a fierce embrace. Aaliyah clung to her, burying her face in Cruz’s shoulder as the weight of everything she’d been holding onto finally began to lift.
They stood there for what felt like forever, wrapped in each other’s arms, the silence between them filled with unspoken words and shared pain.
“I love you,” Cruz whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I know I’ve made mistakes, but I love you, Aaliyah. And I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make this right.”
Aaliyah closed her eyes, her heart aching but full. “I love you too,” she whispered back. “We’ll figure this out. Together.”
--
The mid-afternoon sunlight streamed through the large windows of Aaliyah’s living room, painting warm patterns on the plush rug. Aaliyah sat in the familiar armchair she had occupied for so many months, her hands folded neatly in her lap. Today felt different, though. She wasn’t sure if it was the soft finality in Dr. Becerra’s tone or the weight of their conversation, but the moment felt bittersweet.
“I think you’re ready,” Dr. Becerra said gently, her voice carrying the same warmth and steadiness that had comforted Aaliyah through so many dark days. “You’ve done so much hard work, Aaliyah. You’ve confronted the pain, the guilt, and the fear that used to hold you back. You’ve built a life that’s full of possibility and joy. I don’t think you need me anymore—not in the same way.”
Aaliyah blinked, her chest tightening. She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but hearing those words felt heavier than she anticipated. “So… this is it?” she asked, her voice soft. “No more sessions?”
Dr. Becerra smiled, a touch of pride in her expression. “Not unless you feel you need them. You’re always welcome to reach out, Aaliyah. But I think you’ve graduated. You’ve grown into a version of yourself who can face what comes next without needing me to hold your hand.”
Aaliyah nodded slowly, her throat tightening as she absorbed the words. For so long, these sessions had been her lifeline. A place where she could lay everything bare, where she didn’t have to be strong or pretend to have it all figured out. The thought of letting go of that safety net was both terrifying and exhilarating.
“Thank you,” Aaliyah said, her voice thick with emotion. “I don’t even know how to express how much you’ve helped me. You’ve… you’ve changed my life.”
Dr. Becerra leaned forward slightly, her eyes warm and kind. “You did the work, Aaliyah. I just helped guide you. Don’t sell yourself short.”
Aaliyah smiled faintly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She sat quietly for a moment, letting the words sink in, before finally rising from her chair. Dr. Becerra also stood, extending her hand, but Aaliyah surprised them both by stepping forward and pulling her into a hug.
“Thank you,” she whispered again, her voice trembling.
Dr. Becerra patted her back gently. “You’re going to do amazing things, Aaliyah. I have no doubt about that.”
--
Aaliyah replayed the session in her mind. Graduating from therapy felt like a milestone she hadn’t realized she’d been working toward. It was another step forward, another sign that she was rebuilding her life, piece by piece.
And her life was being rebuilt. She thought about her classes—she was officially a college student now, working on her Bachelor’s in Literature. It still felt surreal sometimes, walking across campus with her backpack slung over one shoulder, sitting in lecture halls, and engaging in discussions about books and writing. She loved it, though. It felt like a part of herself she had been missing for years was finally finding its way back.
Her thoughts drifted to Cruz, as they often did these days. Cruz had been her rock, her steady presence throughout. Their relationship had grown stronger and steadier with each passing month. Cruz was working now, helping veterans transition out of the military—a cause close to her heart after her own struggles to adjust to civilian life. Aaliyah had never seen her so fulfilled.
Cruz had become her home in so many ways, and tonight, Aaliyah was planning to ask her to make that literal. The thought made her stomach flutter with a mix of excitement and nerves. It wasn’t just about sharing a space—it was about sharing a life.
When Aaliyah pulled into her driveway, the sun started to dip low in the sky, casting the neighborhood in a warm, golden glow. She parked the car and stepped out, her bag slung over her shoulder as she made her way inside.
The house felt quiet and calm, but an undercurrent of anticipation thrummed through her. Cruz would be over later, and Aaliyah had been mentally rehearsing how to bring up the question all day.
She set her bag down and went to the kitchen, where she started preparing dinner. Cruz would probably joke about her tendency to overthink things, but this was important. Aaliyah wanted everything to be perfect—not because Cruz expected it, but because Aaliyah wanted to show her how much this meant.
When Cruz arrived, the house smelled of roasted vegetables and spices. Cruz stepped through the door with a smile that lit up the entire room, a bouquet of wildflowers in one hand, and a grin that made Aaliyah’s heart flip.
“Smells amazing in here,” Cruz said, leaning in to kiss Aaliyah softly.
Aaliyah felt herself relax instantly, her nerves easing at the warmth of Cruz’s presence. “I wanted to make something special,” she said, her voice soft but steady.
Cruz’s eyes softened, and she tilted her head slightly. “What’s the occasion?”
Aaliyah hesitated for just a moment before deciding to lean into the vulnerability. “Us,” she said simply. “You. Everything.”
Dinner passed in a comfortable rhythm of conversation and laughter. Cruz listened intently as Aaliyah talked about her classes, her eyes lighting up with genuine excitement. It always amazed Aaliyah how invested Cruz was in her life, how much she seemed to care about every detail.
After dinner, they moved to the living room, where Cruz stretched out on the couch while Aaliyah curled up beside her. It was the kind of quiet, domestic moment Aaliyah had once thought she’d never have again.
“Hey,” Cruz’s voice broke through Aaliyah’s thoughts as she placed a kiss on her head. Her dark hair was slightly mussed, and she was wearing one of Aaliyah’s oversized sweatshirts, the sight of which never failed to make Aaliyah’s heart flutter. “You okay? You’ve been quiet tonight.”
Aaliyah blinked, realizing she must have been staring into space. She smiled, but it felt wobbly. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just… thinking.”
Cruz tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly in concern. “What’s on your mind?”
Aaliyah took a deep breath, deciding it was now or never. She shifted to face Cruz fully, her hands trembling slightly as she reached out to take Cruz’s. The warmth of Cruz’s touch grounded her, gave her the courage to speak.
“I’ve been thinking about us,” Aaliyah began, her voice soft but steady. “About how much you mean to me. About how much this—what we have—means to me.”
Cruz’s gaze softened, her thumbs brushing gently over Aaliyah’s knuckles. “You mean the world to me, Aaliyah. You know that, right?”
Aaliyah nodded, her throat tightening with emotion. “I do. And that’s why I… I want to ask you something. Something I’ve been thinking about for a while now.”
Cruz’s brows lifted slightly in curiosity, but her expression remained patient and open. “Go on,” she urged gently.
Aaliyah took another deep breath, gathering her courage. “I want you to move in with me,” she said, her voice trembling slightly but filled with sincerity. “I want this house to be our home. I want to wake up with you here every morning and come home to you every night. I want to share my life with you, Cruz. All of it.”
For a moment, Cruz just stared at her, and Aaliyah felt her heart climb into her throat. But then Cruz’s face broke into the most radiant smile Aaliyah had ever seen, and she let out a soft, disbelieving laugh.
“You want me to move in?” Cruz asked, her voice tinged with awe.
Aaliyah nodded, her eyes searching Cruz’s for any hint of hesitation. “Only if you’re ready. If you’re not, that’s okay. I just… I needed you to know how I feel.”
Cruz cupped Aaliyah’s face in her hands, her touch gentle but firm. “Aaliyah, I’ve been ready for this for a long time,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “You have no idea how much I’ve dreamed about this—about building a life with you. I’d love to move in.”
Aaliyah felt a wave of relief and joy crash over her. Before she knew it, she was laughing, tears streaming down her face. Cruz pulled her into a tight embrace, holding her as though she never intended to let go.
After a long moment, Cruz leaned back slightly, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “You know,” she said, her voice playful, “there’s only one proper way to celebrate this.”
Aaliyah tilted her head in confusion, but before she could respond, Cruz stood and scooped her up into her arms with an ease that made Aaliyah squeal in surprise.
“Cruz!” Aaliyah exclaimed, laughing as she wrapped her arms around Cruz’s neck. “What are you doing?”
“Carrying you over the threshold,” Cruz said matter-of-factly, grinning at her. “It’s tradition, isn’t it?”
Aaliyah couldn’t stop laughing as Cruz carried her through the living room and into the hallway, her strong arms steady despite Aaliyah’s squirming.
“All is well in the world,” Cruz declared dramatically as they crossed the threshold into the bedroom.
Aaliyah rolled her eyes, though her smile remained firmly in place. “You’re ridiculous,” she said, her voice filled with affection.
“And you love it,” Cruz shot back, setting Aaliyah down gently on the bed before leaning down to kiss her.
As the kiss deepened, Aaliyah’s laughter faded, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to disappear. When they finally pulled back, Aaliyah rested her forehead against Cruz’s, her heart feeling impossibly full.
“I do love it,” she admitted softly. “And I love you.”
Cruz’s smile softened, her eyes shining with emotion. “I love you too, Aaliyah. More than anything.”
As they settled into the bed that night, tangled together in a way that felt as natural as breathing, Aaliyah couldn’t help but feel that for the first time in a long time, her life was exactly where it was meant to be.
Fin.