Phoenix

She, a woman sculpted by solitude, had built an empire of independence. Past scars, etched by betrayal, whispered of love's cruel masquerade, rendering her heart a fortress guarded by cynicism's moat. Then, like a rogue wave on a tranquil shore, came He. He chipped away at her defenses, his laughter a melody that resonated in the chambers of her soul. Hesitantly, Serena opened a window, letting in the possibility of warmth. But it doesn't stay warm out there, sometimes a little breeze leads to a windstorm, and She kept her window open.