I was a simple girl, believing that beauty lies in the little details, and that life holds a deeper flavor when lived with passion and joy. I wasn’t searching for love, but it entered my life quietly, like a warm breeze on a cold night. Our relationship lasted a full three years—we thought time itself would pause in honor of what we had. But as they say, every beginning has an end.

He disappeared suddenly—without warning, without a goodbye, just… vanished. As if he had evaporated from this world. I tried everything to reach him, searched through his friends, traced his last steps—but no trace… no answer. I would flip through our old photos, recalling his laughter, his words, even his silence. Then one day, in a moment of weakness and rebellion, I gathered every photo, every memory, and burned them. I wanted to free myself, to extinguish the fire that still burned inside me.

Two years passed.

I was at my close friend’s engagement party, surrounded by joy and laughter. I stepped out onto the balcony to catch a breath of fresh air, and in the crowd—I saw him. I wasn’t sure at first. His features were familiar, but I didn’t want to believe my heart. I brushed it off and headed to get a glass of juice, and just as I turned… our eyes met.

I froze.

Those same eyes, that same gaze, the face that had never left my memory. I saw the shock in his eyes, as if time had suddenly brought him back to a moment he thought was over.

He whispered, hesitantly, barely audible: “You… it’s you?”