When we finally pull apart, Michael rests his forehead against mine, his breath coming in slow, steady puffs. "I don't deserve you," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.
"Maybe not," i reply with a small smile. "But you've got me anyway."
Michael chuckles softly, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. "Lucky me."
We stand like that for a long moment, wrapped in each other's arms, before Michael finally pulls away, his expression serious again.
"I meant what I said earlier," he says quietly. "I'm going to try, Isabella. I'm going to do better."
My heart swells with hope, as I nod my head, my eyes shining with unshed tears. "I know you will."
It isn't a perfect promise, but it is enough. And for now, that is all i need.
