The First Time I Saw Him

I was fifteen when I first saw him — not in the waking world, but in a dream so vivid, it settled into my memory like it had always been there. The kind of dream you never forget, because some part of you whispers this is real. 
In the dream, I was in a place that didn’t belong to time. A meadow beneath a lavender sky, with stars flickering like they were breathing. There was a lake, still as glass, reflecting a moon that looked bigger than the sky could hold. I stood on its shore, barefoot, the hem of my gown soaked in dew. Not a modern dress — but something out of a different century. Heavy silk, soft laces. I looked like someone from a story long forgotten. 
And then — I turned. 
He was already there. 
On a horse, tall and still, watching me. 
I didn’t know his name. I had never seen his face before. 
But I knew him. Deeply. Instinctively. As though my soul had been searching for him in every crowd I’d ever walked through. 
He dismounted slowly, never taking his eyes off me. There was no fear, no doubt, only a stillness — like we had both arrived. I felt warmth rush into my chest as he stepped closer. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. 
We danced. 
No music. No words. Just the rhythm of two beings who had known each other before names, before countries, before time began counting years. I looked into his eyes, and the world disappeared. In his gaze, I found every emotion I had never felt in waking life — love, safety, devotion, and something else… a promise. 
Wait for me. 
I’ll find you again. 
When I woke up, I cried. 
Not because it was over, but because I knew it wasn’t just a dream. 
From that moment on, I waited. 
Not actively. Not dramatically. Just quietly — a secret thread running through my life, pulling me forward. I saw glimpses of him in strangers. I searched for his eyes in passing faces. Now and then, he’d return in my sleep. On a boat. In a forest. Across a battlefield. Always looked at me like he remembered too. 
I didn’t know when, or how, but I believed I would meet him again. 
In this life. In this skin. In a moment I couldn’t plan. 
And I did.

The sun had dipped behind the city by the time we reached the small park near Isla's apartment.


It wasn't much — just a stretch of grass, two benches, and a rusting jungle gym that creaked in the wind. But it was quiet. Dimly lit. And felt like a place where secrets could breathe.


Jace and I sat on the bench closest to the lamppost. The one we always passed but never stopped at. Until tonight.


He handed me a canned coffee from the nearby sari-sari store. "Still your favourite?"


I smiled, fingers brushing his lightly as I took it. "You remember."


We sat in silence for a while. Not awkward — just the kind that made space for what was unsaid.


"You, okay?" he asked softly. "You looked shaken back there."


Because what do you say when the person who once shattered your soul suddenly wants to fix it? And you're not sure if your soul even wants that anymore?


"I don't know," I finally said. "It's like… he opens a door I thought I locked from the outside."


"I didn't think I'd ever see him again," I added, staring down at my coffee. "And now it's like everything I buried is sitting in my chest again."


"You don't owe him anything," Jace said gently. "Not your clarity. Not your confusion. Not even your time."


At the boy who used to send me Spotify links and wait in the rain outside my old apartment. The one who never pushed never asked for more than I could give. Always steady. Always soft.


"I know we're not—" he began, then paused. "We've never been… official. But I need to say something before I lose the chance."


"Mara," he said, voice steady, "I want to marry you."


Not out of fear. Not even out of shock.


But because it was so… simple. So quietly certain.


"I know this is unexpected," he continued. "I know you're still figuring things out. But I've been sure of this for years. I don't care what we were or weren't before. I just know I want to build a life with you. I want to be your safe place."


I blinked, unsure if I heard him right.


"I'm not asking you to say yes now," he said. "Just… think about it. You don't have to love me yet. You just have to believe I won't break you."


Because it was the kind of offer I never got from Elián. No drama. No chaos. Just love — calm and quiet and kind.


I looked up at the stars. Took a shaky breath. And gave him the only answer I could.


He smiled, and it was the softest thing I'd seen in a while.


We stayed there a little longer. Quiet again. Letting the wind move through the branches. Letting the world slow down.


I didn't know what would happen tomorrow.


But tonight, I was held. Not by promises I couldn't trust — but by one I might one day grow into.


Chapter 31 - Chapter Thirty-One: The Park Near Home