Nael left at dawn.
No grand goodbye. No promises carved into trees. Just a long look across the porch, a soft kiss on Farah's forehead, and a whispered "Don't forget me."
She stood there long after his car disappeared into the mist.
---
Paris was colder than he remembered. Stone buildings. Lights that never slept. People rushing toward dreams with eyes too tired to see the sky.
Nael stood onstage at the film symposium, his hands trembling as they introduced him.
"Nael Safar—'Rooted Wild: The Story of a Farm and a Girl.'"
The lights dimmed.
His film rolled.
There were gasps at the opening shots: golden fields, Farah's hands planting basil, Jiddo Omar laughing, Nana Salma stirring jam. Then came the moment Nael knew would shift the air—Farah sitting beneath the olive tree, looking up at the stars.
"This place remembers," her voice said in the narration. "Even when the world forgets."
The applause was thunderous. Cameras flashed. But all Nael could think was:
She's not here.
---
Back home, Farah watched the sunrise alone. The flash drive Nael gave her was plugged into her laptop.
She'd seen the film too.
Twice.
And cried both times.
Not because he left—but because she knew he'd come back changed. And maybe not for her.
---
A week passed. Then two.
And on the twenty-second day, as she planted rows of wild mint, a shadow crossed the field.
She stood up, heart stuttering.
Nael.
Bag over his shoulder. Dust on his boots. Eyes tired—but smiling.
"You left," she said softly.
"I had to."
She nodded. "And?"
"I won," he said. "They offered me contracts. A full docuseries. Travel. Sponsors."
Her heart thudded.
"And I said no."
She stared. "Why?"
He stepped forward. "Because I already found the best story."
He reached into his jacket and pulled out a tiny velvet box.
Farah's breath caught.
"I don't want a life of highlights, Farah. I want mornings with you and burnt toast. I want sheep that escape and you yelling my name. I want this." He took her hand. "I want us."
She opened the box.
A simple silver ring. Carved with one word.
"Home."
She smiled through tears. "You didn't have to choose me."
"I didn't. I chose us."
---
And as they stood there, in the field that remembered everything—it began to rain.
Only this time, they didn't run.
They just held on to each other.
And let the future begin