22. The Kiss
She's never really been loved.
She knows this, has known it for a long time, and thinks about it now while she watches Boyd as he keeps watch.
Bowman had seen her as his prize, treated her as a possession and used her as a punch-bag. Raylan had liked her well enough to sleep with her but not enough to stay with her.
Next time, she has promised herself, next time she will find a good man.
Her criteria aren't bound by laws or morals, they are defined by the things that are important to her. A good man will not beat her or deceive her or abandon her. A good man will love her, truly love her, and only her. And he might stand outside of her house, watching the place where he thinks she is, without wanting anything from her.
She stands in the shadows for a time, watching him, not surprised to find him there.
He stares at the house with the fixation most men reserve for something sacred. And she waits for the moment when he will work himself up to going to the door until she realises that he isn't going to.
He is a good man, and he is hers.
When she steps out and calls him by name he turns and looks at her and for a second she thinks that he will bolt. She doesn't ask how long he would have stood there because she already knows. They had reached the point, long ago, where she knows all she needs to. No fairy-tales, no impossible dreams, but a knight in tarnished armour offering his devotion from afar.
And in the end she's the one who takes the final steps, who kisses him, her hands light against his face.
They hold each other for a long time; he says her name, sending it up to the stars that bear witness to this, to them.
Us.
She tilts her head back, re-captures his lips and this time his hand twists into the roots of her hair and his breath in her mouth is warm and sweet. He feels solid, here in her arms, and right.
Solid, anchored, and unmoving when she tries to pull him towards the house.
'Ava...' He sighs, traces the line of her cheek with his finger. 'That's not why I came.'
'But it's what you've got. Like it or not,' she adds, defiant, and he smiles then.
He is hers, and she is his.