The next morning, she woke up before the sun had fully claimed the sky.

For a few seconds, she forgot.

Then she remembered him.

And a smile appeared before she could stop it.

It was ridiculous, really.

How could one person take up so much space in her thoughts?

She sat up, reached for her phone, and stared at the screen.

No new message.

Immediately, her heart and her mind began their familiar argument.

„He probably doesn’t care.”

„No, that’s not true.”

„Then why hasn’t he replied?”

„Maybe he’s busy.”

„Maybe he’s not thinking about you.”

The conversation continued in circles.

What neither her heart nor her mind seemed to understand was that somewhere between fear and hope, she was forgetting to breathe.

Forgetting to live.

Forgetting that her whole world could not fit inside a notification.

Hours passed.

And then, just when she had almost convinced herself of another heartbreaking story, his name appeared on her screen.

One message.

Then another.

Then another.

The smile returned so quickly it was almost embarrassing.

„There you are,” she whispered to nobody.

As if he had been lost.

As if she hadn’t known all along that he would eventually come back.

The truth was that she was still learning something difficult:

Love—or whatever this was becoming—wasn’t measured in minutes.

Not in how fast someone replied.

Not in how many hearts they sent.

Not in how many times they said good morning or goodnight.

It was measured in consistency.

In showing up.

In choosing each other again and again.

And he kept showing up.

Not perfectly.

Not every second.

But enough.

Enough that she began to wonder if maybe her fears weren’t warnings at all.

Maybe they were simply old storms looking for new clouds.

That thought stayed with her.

Especially on the nights when the world felt quiet and his messages felt like little lanterns in the dark.

Because every time he called her hermosa, every time he made her laugh, every time he reminded her that she mattered, a tiny crack appeared in the walls she had built around her heart.

And through those cracks, something warm began to grow.

Not certainty.

Not forever.

Just trust.

And sometimes trust was even more beautiful.

Because trust wasn’t born in perfect moments.

It was born in ordinary ones.

A goodnight message.

A shared joke.

A missed call returned later.

A simple „I miss you.”

Small things.

Small things that slowly became something impossible to ignore.