"So?" Isla leaned on the doorway of my room, arms crossed, holding a mug of 3-in-1 coffee like it was ammunition.
I was still in bed. Eyes half-open. The morning light sliced through the curtains like it had a grudge.
"He asked me to marry him."
I didn't look at her. I just said it, flat, like ripping off a bandage.
There was a beat of silence.
And then — "You what?"
"I said I'd think about it," I added quickly, still avoiding her stare.
"Mara."
I braced for it.
"You cannot be serious. You—you cried in a fire exit over a man who ghosted you, and now you're pausing to think about someone who has offered you peace? What are you waiting for, the moon to write you a letter?"
"I'm not choosing him just because he's safe," I muttered. "You make it sound like I'm supposed to jump into it just to get away from Elián."
"Maybe you're not supposed to run, but Mara, don't walk back into a burning house just because the flames look familiar."
That one landed.
She sat beside me, quieter now. "You told me he broke you. That he kissed you like a promise and left you with a wound."
I nodded, eyes starting to blur.
"Then Jace shows up and gives you the kind of love you prayed for before you even knew Elián existed… and you're still hesitating."
I closed my eyes. "It's not that simple."
"I know it's not. But maybe it could be. Maybe not every love has to burn."
I stayed silent.
Then Isla nudged me with her knee. "Think about it this way — you've been dreaming about one man. But what if those dreams weren't telling you who to end up with? What if they were just trying to wake you up?"
I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling.
"I don't know if I'm ready for forever," I whispered.
"No one ever is," she said. "But if someone offers it without strings, without conditions, maybe it's worth standing still long enough to try."
That night, I slept restlessly.
Not because of Elián or Jace. But because something was tugging again — something older.
And in the quiet dark, it came.
The dream
I was walking down an aisle, but it wasn't a modern church. The walls were stone. Candles were flickering like stars, and flower petals scattered on the ground — not white, but crimson.
And I wasn't me. Or rather, I was — but in a different skin. A different time.
My hair was longer. My dress was heavy, embroidered with gold thread and sorrow. And at the end of the aisle… two figures waited.
One — a man with kind eyes, standing beside a quiet altar, holding a ring.
The other — a shadow in the crowd. Watching.
Elián.
But he didn't move. Didn't speak.
He only watched.
And my heart shattered, not because he left — but because this time, I chose to walk past him.
To someone who would stay.
And the moment I reached the altar; I turned toward the other man — the kind one — and the dream collapsed into light.
"Hey." Isla's voice pulled me back. I was gasping, clutching my chest like the wedding gown was still wrapped around it.
"You were talking in your sleep again," she said. "Something about petals… and two men."
I sat up slowly. "I think I finally saw the end."
Isla looked at me quietly, then nodded like she already knew.
"Let's go," she said. "Where?"
"To Lucia."
Later that afternoon
Her studio was still filled with the same scent — jasmine, old wood, incense.
Lucia smiled when she saw us, as if she'd been expecting the visit.
"You're at a crossroads," she said before I could even speak. "Not between two men. Between two selves."
I swallowed.
"Your soul remembers ache, Mara. But ache isn't the same as love. Sometimes we return to people not because we're meant to—but because a wound hasn't been understood yet."
Isla sat silently beside me; her hand wrapped around mine.
"Does he still show up in your dreams?" Lucia asked.
"Yes," I whispered. "But it's changing."
Lucia smiled gently. "Good. That means you're waking up."