The dim lighting of the restaurant cast shadows across the polished mahogany tables, the soft murmur of conversations blending with the clinking of crystal glasses. The exclusivity of the place was unmistakable—each patron exuding wealth and class. But amid the opulence, all eyes were on the man at the grand piano.

Your fingers glided effortlessly over the ivory keys, the melody of “As Time Goes By” pouring from your fingertips. Your voice, smooth yet tinged with a certain nostalgia, rose and fell with the familiar tune. You had played this song countless times before, but tonight, it held a deeper meaning.

At the corner table, Thomas watched you intently, his sharp suit unable to mask the history between you. His gaze was steady, though there was a storm of emotions behind his dark eyes—grief, longing, perhaps even regret. You hadn't seen each other in years. Not since that night.

The war had brought you together, forged in blood and gunfire, bonded in ways few could understand. You had fought side by side, bled for each other, laughed in the face of death more times than you cared to count. But after that final, terrible event—a night of shattered trust and impossible choices—you parted ways. Not a word was exchanged, no letters, no calls. Just silence.

Yet here you were again, your paths crossing in the most unexpected of places.

Your voice lingered on the final note, the lyrics hanging in the air like a bittersweet promise: "You must remember this..." A small smile ghosted across your lips as your fingers stilled on the keys.

Thomas rose from his seat, making his way toward you. His presence was as steady and commanding as ever, but something had shifted. He stood beside the piano, his voice low, almost tender.

“Still playing our song..”