Elias squeezed her hand, feeling the warmth through her glove. "Yeah," he whispered. "But it's okay. I'm with you."
The years that followed weren't perfect. There were days when Elias couldn't leave the house, and days when Clara’s own bright spirit flickered under the weight of her own struggles. But the phrase became their anchor. When the hospital bills came, when the bookstore closed, when the world felt like it was spinning too fast—they would find each other’s eyes and say it. Im With You
"I like the noise," Elias said, his voice raspy from hours of silence. Elias squeezed her hand, feeling the warmth through
"Well, Elias, you look like you’re searching for something that isn't on this bench." Elias squeezed her hand