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I've climbed mountains. Fought men twice my size and walked away standing.

Four flights of stairs nearly kills me.

By the third, I'm counting each step like a prayer. By the fourth, I'm not sure I'm going to make it.

But I do.

Her door is at the end of the hall. 4B. I've memorized the number. Dreamed about it. Imagined knocking a thousand times.

I never did.

Until now.

I lean against the doorframe. Raise my fist. Knock.

The sound is weak. Pathetic. I try again, harder.

Footsteps inside. Light, careful. She's checking the peephole. Of course she is. She's smart.

"Who is it?"

Her voice.

Christ.

Her voice cuts through the fog like a blade. Clear and sharp and real. I close my eyes. Let it wash over me.

Two years. Two miserable fucking years of watching her from the shadows, and her voice still does this to me.

I should leave.

I should turn around, go back down those stairs, call the number, do the smart thing. She told me to stay away. She meant it. And here I am, bleeding on her doorstep like some wounded animal crawling home to die.

This isn't fair to her.

I push off the doorframe. Take a step back.

"Dante."

The word comes out before I can stop it. My name. Just my name. But it's enough.

Silence.

Long. Heavy. The kind of silence that stretches into forever.

I wait for her to tell me to leave. Wait for the sound of her footsteps walking away. Wait for the rejection I deserve.

Instead, I hear the locks.

One. Two. Three.

The door opens.

And there she is.

Marina Reeves.

She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.