Patience Heart

The Morning After

The early morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft, golden hue over the room. It was quiet—too quiet. The kind of silence that hung in the air after something monumental, like the calm after a storm. The remnants of the previous night's passion clung to the air, still heavy, but there was a shift now. Something more fragile, almost delicate, in the stillness of the room.

I blinked my eyes open slowly, taking in the dim surroundings. My body was sore in the best way possible, a reminder of everything Adam and I had shared just hours before. The air was still thick with warmth, a lingering trace of our passion. I shifted slightly, the cool morning air kissing my bare skin, sending a shiver down my spine.

And then, there was Adam.

He lay beside me, his body half-turned toward mine, one arm draped across my waist, fingers brushing against my skin in the lightest of touches. His chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm, still asleep, his face relaxed in a way I hadn't seen in what felt like forever. It was like the weight of everything had lifted from him, if only for this fleeting moment.

I didn't want to wake him, didn't want to break the spell that this quiet morning had woven around us. For now, in this soft, golden light, we were just Adam and Viola. No goodbyes, no regrets, just two people who had found their way back to each other for one last night. I wanted to stay like this forever—just us, here, in this little bubble of warmth and intimacy.

But I knew, deep down, that this peace wouldn't last. Reality was waiting for us, just beyond the walls of this room, ready to crash in like a tidal wave. And when it did, everything we'd shared last night would be over.

A soft sigh escaped my lips, and I felt Adam stir beside me. His arm tightened slightly around my waist, and then his eyes fluttered open, the sleepiness in them slowly giving way to awareness. He blinked a few times, as if trying to orient himself, before his gaze found mine.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. We just looked at each other, the silence heavy with the weight of unspoken thoughts. His eyes were still soft, but there was something behind them now—something that reminded me this wasn't just a regular morning. This wasn't just us waking up after a night of love.

"Morning," I whispered, my voice soft, barely breaking the quiet.

Adam didn't say anything at first. He just reached up, brushing a strand of hair from my face, his fingertips lingering against my skin. His touch was warm, comforting, but there was an undeniable sadness in his eyes.

"Morning," he finally replied, his voice rough from sleep, yet carrying a tenderness that made my heart ache.

We lay there, facing each other, neither of us willing to move. Neither of us willing to face what came next.

His hand drifted from my face, tracing a slow, lazy path down my arm until his fingers found mine. He held my hand gently, his thumb stroking over my knuckles in a gesture that felt both intimate and heartbreaking. It was as though he was memorizing the feel of my skin, trying to imprint it in his mind before everything slipped away.

"I wish..." Adam started, but his voice trailed off, as if the weight of his thoughts was too much to bear.

I knew what he was going to say. I could feel it hanging in the air between us. And though I wanted to hear it, some part of me also didn't want him to finish the sentence. Because if he did, it would make everything real. The goodbye, the finality of it all.

I closed my eyes, swallowing the lump that had formed in my throat. "I know," I whispered, squeezing his hand just a little tighter. "I know."

He shifted closer, his forehead coming to rest against mine. For a moment, we just breathed together, the rhythm of our hearts slowing as we shared the quiet of the morning. The world outside could wait. It had to.

But the longer we stayed like this, the more the reality of the situation began to settle in. I could feel the heaviness in my chest, the ache of what we were about to lose. And I knew Adam felt it too. It was there, in the way his grip on my hand tightened, in the way his breath hitched ever so slightly.

"Viola," he whispered, his voice barely audible, like he was afraid to speak too loudly and break the fragile peace we had found.

I opened my eyes and found his gaze again, and in that moment, I saw everything in his eyes. The love, the regret, the sadness. It was all there, laid bare between us.

"I don't know how to say goodbye to you," he confessed, his voice cracking slightly. "I don't know how to let you go."

His words broke something inside me, and I felt the tears welling up, no longer able to hold them back. But I didn't want to cry. Not now. Not when this moment was all we had left. I blinked rapidly, trying to push the tears away, but they fell anyway, sliding down my cheeks in silent tracks.

Adam leaned in, his lips brushing against my forehead, then my temple, kissing away the tears as they fell. His touch was so gentle, so full of love, that it made my heart ache even more.

"You don't have to," I whispered, my voice shaking with the weight of the emotions I was trying to hold back. "Not yet."

And for the briefest of moments, we pretended like we didn't have to say goodbye. We pretended like this morning was just like any other, and that when we left this bed, we would still have each other. That the world wasn't waiting just beyond the door, ready to tear us apart.

But deep down, we both knew the truth. We both knew that once we stepped out of this room, nothing would be the same again.

The sunlight grew stronger, casting long shadows across the room. I could feel the inevitable creeping closer, like the day was pulling us toward the goodbye we didn't want to face.

Adam kissed me again, softly this time, his lips lingering on mine as if he was trying to hold onto the moment for as long as possible. I kissed him back, pouring every ounce of love I had left into that kiss, knowing that it would have to last me a lifetime.

When we finally pulled away, I looked into his eyes, trying to memorize every detail of his face, every line, every shadow, knowing this would be the last time I would see him like this.

"I love you," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Adam smiled, a sad, broken smile, and cupped my face in his hands. "I love you too, Viola. Always."

And with those words, we knew our time was up.

The morning was no longer just ours. It was slipping away, taking everything we had shared with it. But for a brief moment, as we lay there, tangled in each other's arms, we held onto the memory of the night before, of the love we had given to each other, even if it was the last time.

And for now, that was enough.