Epilogue-four months later

"I'm telling you, a cat would be perfect," I insist, grinning at Lash. "They're independent, affectionate, and they'll keep the mice away."

We're sitting at the small wooden table in the garden, our breakfast spread out before us, and we're right in the middle of a playful argument about whether to adopt a pet. The kind of argument that makes my heart feel light.

Lash shakes his head, a sulky glint in his eyes. "A turtle," he counters, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smirk. "They're low maintenance, they live forever, and they're so boring they won't take up much of your time."

I laugh, the sound bright and carefree, filling the garden. "A turtle? Really?"

"Yes, really," he says, reaching across the table to take my hand. His touch is warm, grounding me, reminding me how much I need him. "Can't have some cute, fluffy cat distracting you."

My smile widens. "If we get a turtle can I name it Lashes?"

A muscle ticks in his jaw. "Sure," he grits. "Why not."

I shake my head, still chuckling, but then my eyes land on the newspaper lying on the table. The headline catches my attention, and my laughter fades. "Reformatory Burns to the Ground," it reads. I swallow hard, my heart skipping a beat as I glance at Lash.

His expression shifts, the playful light in his eyes dimming to something darker, more serious. He knows what I've seen. He knows what it means.

"Lash," I begin, my voice a whisper.

He reaches out, cupping my face in his hands, his eyes searching mine. "I did it for you," he says softly, his voice filled with a mix of resolve and tenderness. "I burned it to the ground for you."

I blink, processing his words. The reformatory, the place that haunted my nightmares, the place where we both suffered, is gone. "Why?" I ask.

His thumbs stroke my cheeks, his gaze unwavering. "Because you don't need to be reminded of it," he murmurs. "I can't erase it from your memories, but I can erase its existence."

Emotion wells up inside me, a mix of relief, gratitude, and an overwhelming sense of love. He did this for me, for us. He destroyed the physical embodiment of our pain, took that step to give us a chance to move forward without the past looming over us.

I lean in, closing the distance between us, and our lips meet in a kiss that speaks volumes. It's a kiss filled with passion, with promise. It's a kiss that seals our bond, solidifies our commitment to one another.

When we finally pull away, I rest my forehead against his, my eyes closed, savoring the moment. "Thank you," I whisper, my voice thick with emotion.

He brushes a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch gentle. "Anything," he says softly. "Always and forever."

I smile, my heart swelling with love for this man who understands my darkness, and I understand his. We're each other's nights. And stars.

The End