I found her leaning against the streetlamp across from my house.
Kellie in a black hoodie, hair messy from the wind, holding two plastic cups of corner-store ice cream with condensation running down the sides.
She didn't speak when she saw me.
Just held one out like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I took it.
We didn't hug. Didn't kiss.
Just started walking.
The streets were almost empty.
Just the hum of passing cars, flickering neon from the 24/7 pharmacy, a stray cat darting under a fence.
My spoon scraped the bottom of the cup by the second block.
Kellie was barely halfway through hers slow, methodical, the way she did everything she cared about.
I broke the silence first.
"My mom didn't yell."
She nodded. "I figured."
"She just… closed off."
Kellie was quiet for a moment. Then:
"Some people think silence is safer than love."
"That's sad."
She looked at me. "Yeah. But we get to choose different."
We turned down a side street lined with paper lanterns still left up from the spring festival. Most were unlit, but one or two glowed faintly forgotten, flickering like tiny ghosts.
I stopped walking.
She stopped beside me.
"I keep wondering if I'm doing the right thing," I said.
"You are."
"I feel guilty for hurting her."
"You didn't hurt her. She hurt herself by refusing to see you."
I looked down. "I still love her."
Kellie didn't answer right away.
Then she took my empty cup, dropped both into a nearby trash bin, and reached for my hand.
"I know," she said. "That's what makes you good."
We sat on the edge of a little playground bench, knees touching, fingers interlaced.
I leaned my head on her shoulder, listening to the soft buzz of the streetlights overhead.
"I don't know how this ends," I whispered.
Kellie turned her head just enough to brush her lips against my hair.
"It doesn't have to end," she said. "We just have to keep choosing it."
She stayed with me until the wind got colder.
Neither of us wanted to say goodbye.
So we didn't.
We just stood up, quietly, and started walking again.
Because sometimes love isn't a declaration.
It's two people who don't want to go home just yet.
And maybe, in the dark when no one's watching that's enough.