Clara was sitting on the porch. He stopped. You're still here. She smiled. I told you I would be.
Taza sat beside her. For a long time, they watched the sunset. Finally, he spoke. I thought I had to protect you from this life. Clara looked at him.
And now? Now I think you were never asking me to protect you. She smiled. What was I asking? Taza looked directly at her.
To let you stay. Clara's eyes filled with warmth. And will you? Taza took a slow breath. Yes.
Then he said something he had not said in decades. I've been waiting, too. Clara whispered, "For me? " Taza nodded. I just didn't know it. For the first time, he reached for her hand.
She held it. There was no grand declaration, no crowd, no music, only two people sitting together beneath the Arizona sunset. A man who had believed his life was already over and a woman who had quietly waited long enough to prove him wrong. The first morning after Taza admitted that he had been waiting for Clara, something felt different. Nothing in the cabin had changed.
The same wooden walls stood around them. The same small fireplace warmed the room. Outside, the mountains still stretched toward the pale Arizona sky. Yet Taza felt as though he had stepped into another life. For years, he had awakened each morning with one thought, "Survive the day, finish the work, and return home before dark. " Now, when he opened his eyes, his first thought was Clara.
She was outside the cabin carrying a wooden bucket toward the small garden. Taza watched her through the window. "You don't have to do that," he called. Clara turned. "I know. " "Then why are you doing it? " "Because I want to. " Taza shook his head.
"You're stubborn. " Clara smiled. "You're only noticing that now? " He couldn't help smiling. It was a small smile, but Clara noticed it. She had never seen Taza look so peaceful. Over the next several weeks, they slowly began building a life together.
There was no grand wedding announcement, no expensive celebration, no sudden transformation. Instead, their relationship grew through ordinary moments. Clara repaired curtains. Taza repaired the roof. She planted vegetables.
He built a fence around the garden. She organized the cabin. He brought home firewood. Sometimes they worked for hours without speaking, and strangely, those quiet hours became Taza's favorite part of the day. One afternoon, Clara noticed that part of the cabin roof was leaking.
Rainwater had damaged one corner of the ceiling. Taza climbed onto the roof immediately. Clara stood below. Be careful. I am.
You say that every time. Because I am. A moment later, one of the boards shifted. Taza lost his balance for a second. Clara gasped.
He caught himself and looked down. I told you I'm careful. She crossed her arms. You nearly fell. Nearly isn't falling.
Clara shook her head. You are impossible. Taza climbed down. For a moment, they stood facing each other. Then Clara laughed.