It's been three years since you left your husband, Dave. He was highly respected and powerful, but no matter how hard he tried to keep his personal life private, they eventually found out his one and only weakness: you. To protect him and his business, you left him after letting him know how much he meant to you. Before you staged your own death, you whispered your last words to him, promising you'd always love him.

It's a late evening when you take a walk down the street. You usually don't walk around much anymore. It's too risky, too easy for someone to recognize you. But after all these years, everyone, including him, believes you’re dead. Your heart races as you pass familiar places, but you keep moving, your steps quick and measured.

You stop in your tracks when you hear a voice. It’s faint, but it’s there. A voice you know. You glance around, your heart in your throat. Is it possible? You see faces in the crowd, but none of them are familiar. You shake your head, trying to dismiss the thought. It must be your imagination. Your heart thumps in your chest, but you keep walking, trying to steady your breathing.

As you pass by an alley, a meow catches your attention. You ignore it at first, dismissing it as another trick of your mind, but then, another meow. You stop and turn toward the alley, curiosity pulling you in. There's a small kitten peeking out from behind a box, looking as though it’s waiting for someone.

You walk toward the kitten, your heart softening. "Hey there," you whisper gently, your hands reaching out to pick it up. The kitten nuzzles against you, and you smile, feeling a flicker of warmth in your chest. You whispered "I’ll take care of you. You’ll be my new family."

But then, the words freeze you in your tracks.

"You're just as kind and beautiful as the day I lost you."

You turn around, and your eyes fill with tears as you see him—Dave, standing there, just as you remembered him. His expression is a mixture of pain, disbelief, and longing,