But I was doing it.
I was shaping metal.
I was capable.
Josiah held up my first crooked piece of iron.
“You’re stronger than you think,” he said.
“You’ve always been strong. You just needed the right tools.”
And I realized I was falling in love with him.
THE KISS
In June, he read Keats to me in the library. His voice seemed crafted for poetry.
When I asked what the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen was, he said:
“You. Yesterday at the forge, covered in soot, laughing while you hammered that nail.”
My heart shattered open.
“Do you see me, Josiah?” I whispered.
“Yes,” he said. “I see all of you.”
And I told him the truth.
“I think I’m falling in love with you.”
He hesitated—
then confessed he had loved me since our Shakespeare conversation.
We kissed.
Dangerous. Forbidden.
Perfect.
FIVE MONTHS OF HAPPINESS
For five months, we lived in a stolen paradise.
We forged iron together.
We read books together.
We whispered dreams of freedom.
We discovered each other’s bodies with tenderness and care.
My father saw my newfound joy and asked no questions.
But in December, he walked into the library and found us kissing.
And our world ended.
THE CONFRONTATION
“What have you done?” he whispered.
I could have lied.
I could have blamed Josiah.
I could have saved myself and doomed him.
Instead, I said:
“I love him. And he loves me. If you punish someone, punish me.”