They sat under the jacaranda tree, its violet petals falling slowly around them like quiet confetti. Summer had stretched long and golden, and the late afternoon sun was soft on their faces.

Adriana leaned back on her elbows, staring up through the branches. Francisco sat cross-legged beside her, picking at the grass between his shoes.

“Do you remember the really big one?” Adriana asked suddenly.

Francisco looked over. “Which one?”

“The injection,” she said. “The one that felt like… like it had weight. Like it wasn’t just a needle. It carried something else.”

Francisco didn’t answer right away. He just nodded, very slowly. “Yeah. I remember.”

Adriana hugged her knees to her chest. “It scared me, more than I wanted to admit. Not because it hurt. But because it felt like… if I did that, I couldn’t hide from anything anymore. Like I had to be honest. With myself.”

Francisco stayed quiet, watching a petal land near her foot.

“I thought about running,” she admitted. “Right before. I thought: ‘If I just stand up and say no, this all stops.’ But then you looked at me. You didn’t even say anything. Just… looked. And I stayed.”

He smiled faintly. “I didn’t know what to say. I just didn’t want you to think you were alone.”

Adriana turned her head, meeting his eyes. “That’s the thing. I didn’t feel alone. Not even for a second. I think that was the first time I really trusted someone without holding back. Even the fear didn’t push you away.”

He nodded. “That was the first time I understood what it meant to hold space for someone.”

They were quiet for a while.

The wind stirred the petals around them, like something whispering gently through memory.

“I don’t think it was just a medical thing,” she said softly. “That injection… it was like a door. After it, everything felt different. Like I trusted the world a little more. Or maybe I just trusted us more.”

Francisco leaned back beside her. “Me too. You showed me what it looks like to choose trust — even when everything in you wants to run. That moment… it made us real.”

She exhaled, slow and light. “Stronger?”

“Closer,” he said. “And yeah, stronger too.”

A long silence wrapped around them, warm and unhurried.

Then Adriana tilted her head toward him. “Do you think we’ll ever have to do something that hard again?”

Francisco didn’t flinch. “Probably.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

Because now, hard didn’t mean impossible. Not with him next to her.