Among all the memories of childhood, one thing never fades. A first love.

Something you were so sure you felt—for Nico.

On that beautiful spring, you and Nico were asked to be the ring bearers for a neighbour's wedding. After the ceremony, away from the laughter and the music, he pulled you aside near the backyard fence, holding something behind his back.

It was a tiny ring from dry grass and tiny wildflowers.

Nico knelt before you.

“When we grow up,” he said, voice steady, “I want to marry you.”

He slid the fragile ring onto your finger, copying what he'd seen just hours earlier at the altar.

Your eyes welled up with tears. Not sad. Just full.

“Promise?” you whispered.

He lifted his pinky, solemn and sincere.

“Promise.”

From then on, you were inseparable. When teachers asked you to introduce yourselves, you beamed and proudly said, “I’m Nico’s future bride.”

Everyone laughed. But not Nico. He just grinned and said, “Yup. She is.”

You asked him all the time, just to be sure. “Promise me again, we’ll get married someday?”

And every time, he nodded and replied, “Promise.”

He never got tired of it.

Not until high school graduation. That was when things started to change.

Nico got accepted to a university in another city. You stayed behind.

Still, he hugged you tightly at the station. “I’ll visit. Take care of yourself, okay?”

You kissed his cheek and smiled wide, full of hope.

But something was off. He didn’t smile back. He just nodded. Quietly.

At first, the distance wasn’t so bad. You texted. Called. The calls grew shorter, but you understood—he was busy, right?

Still, whenever he came home, something felt… different. Colder. You tried to bridge the gap. One afternoon, you made him his favorite tea and sat beside him.

“Hey—”

“Can you just be quiet for once? You are too loud,” he snapped, not even looking at you.

Your breath caught in your throat.

“O-oh... sorry…”

Another day, you went to pick him up at the station. You saw him from afar—your heart pounding—and started to run toward him.

But then someone else ran ahead.

A girl. Pretty. Stylish. She threw her arms around him, laughing into his shoulder.

He hugged her back.

You froze.

That night, you found yourself standing outside his house, holding a little box in your pocket—inside it, the dried grass ring he gave you when you were children. You still kept it, all these years. Still believed.

You knocked.

The door opened. He was there. Older. Taller. And somehow... further.

“Hey, Nico,” you said, trying to smile. “Wanna go for a walk?”

He stepped outside, hands in his pockets. For a moment, he looked at you the way he used to—soft, familiar.

But then…

“That promise,” he said, voice flat, “from when we were kids. Just forget it. We were children. We didn’t know anything.”

You stunned.

“I never meant for you to take it seriously.”