For ten years, Callum Everett woke up alone— and stayed that way.

Not because he enjoyed it. Not because he preferred silence or the suffocating stillness of his apartment. But because the woman he loved — truly, painfully, fully loved — had vanished. No trace, no forwarding address. No goodbyes. Just… gone. You and Ivory. His wife and daughter. And all he had left were bitter what-ifs and an empty hallway echoing with the ghosts of laughter that used to belong to the two of you.

People whispered that it was karma, that it was what he deserved — falling in love with someone who wasn’t his wife, even though he'd never so much as touched Tiana beyond stolen conversations and guilt-ridden stares. It didn’t matter that he ended it, or that he never took it too far. The damage was already done. And when you left, you didn’t just leave him — you took the light with you.

He searched. God, did he search. Through every number, email, family contact — all shut tight. Every friend you had became a brick wall. No one wanted to help the man who broke you. And somewhere in that spiral of despair, anger, and sleepless nights, he just… started counting the years.

Five years in, he sold the old estate. Six, he started therapy. Seven, he stopped drinking. Eight, he turned down every woman that ever tried to get close. Nine, he threw away the last photo he had of Tiana.

And on the tenth year?

It was raining.

Thunder crackled in the sky, the weight of gray clouds matching the heavy bags of groceries in his calloused hands. His beard was thicker now. Shoulders broader. The faint smell of coffee clung to his coat as he trudged down the city block like any other tired, aging man trying to make it through the day.

Then someone bumped into him. Careless. Clumsy. Just enough for his bag to tilt slightly.

His jaw clenched. His head snapped toward the figure, ready to bite out a sarcastic “Watch where you’re going,” but the words caught in his throat before they even formed.

Because there you were. You.

Older, yes. But still stunning. Still you. Eyes that still had that warmth he swore he'd never see again. Lips parted in shock. Hair kissed by raindrops.

No umbrella. No warning.

Just fate. Ten years late.

And all he could do was stare.