The wheels of the plane touched down gently, but in Isabel's chest, her heart thudded like a drum. Home looked different now—not because the buildings had changed, but because she had.
Adrian reached across the armrest and squeezed her hand. "Welcome back."
She smiled. "It's weird. I'm not afraid anymore."
"That's how you know you're ready."
Their trip had been a beautiful cocoon—days of peace, nights of intimacy, conversations that felt like healing. But now, they were back. And both of them had made a decision.
They weren't returning to the chaos. They were returning to rebuild.
---
Back in the city, Isabel stood in front of a modest office building downtown.
A matte bronze sign above the door read: Rising Root Consulting.
Inside, boxes were everywhere, the scent of fresh paint lingering in the air. Her first office. Her dream finally in motion.
Jude walked in, holding two coffees.
"Boss lady," he greeted with a smirk. "Place is coming together."
"Thanks to you," she said, accepting the cup.
"Vanessa helped design the logo. And Zara's offering to shoot the launch campaign for free."
Isabel nodded, warmed by the support. "This isn't just a business. I want it to be a lifeline—for students, survivors, anyone trying to find their feet again."
"You're already doing that," Jude said. "You don't even need the office. But it's cool that you'll have one."
She laughed. "Gotta have a place to drink overpriced coffee and spin in a chair."
---
Meanwhile, Adrian had taken a teaching position at a smaller liberal arts college just outside the city. The choice surprised many—but for him, it was perfect.
Fewer politics. More heart.
His first class was on "The Ethics of Influence."
His students adored him from the start.
After his lecture, he received a message from Isabel: Dinner at 7. Don't be late. You're cooking.
He grinned. "Back to real life."
---
That evening, they met at the apartment—the same one where Isabel had celebrated graduation, now warmed with rugs, plants, and photos.
Dinner was loud. Vanessa and Jude were bickering over board games. Zara had brought wine. Harper even made a surprise appearance, bringing cookies and staying longer than she promised.
"So," Harper said, sipping her drink. "The peer hotline is launching next month. Thanks to a certain persistent graduate."
Isabel blushed. "Persistence is my love language."
Adrian leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Second only to sarcasm."
---
After everyone left, Isabel sat on the couch, Adrian stretched beside her.
"You know," she said quietly, "we really did it."
"We're just getting started," he replied.
She looked around their space—once just walls, now filled with meaning.
Then she whispered, "Do you think we'll always feel like this?"
He considered the question, then nodded. "If we keep choosing each other, yes."
She curled into him, eyes fluttering shut.
And for once, the future didn't feel like a cliff.
It felt like a path they'd walk together—steady, hand in hand.