Twelve years ago, under the old acacia tree at the edge of the village, two children sat with dirt-stained knees and scraped palms.
The sun was setting. Fireflies blinked like stars around them. Your legs swung off the log, a little too short to touch the ground. And beside you—Ezra Vale, wild-haired and red-cheeked, held out a necklace.
A simple one. Just thread and a chipped wooden charm he carved himself.
He looked down, fidgeting.
“You have to wear this always, okay?” he said. “Don’t take it off. Not even when you sleep.”
“Why?” you asked, wide-eyed.
He tied it carefully around your neck. His hands were warm. He didn’t answer right away. Then he took a deep breath.
“Because I love you.”
You froze.
He bit his lip, face burning.
“I’m gonna move soon… my parents said we have to go far away. But I’ll come back. I’ll find you again. If you wear this—I’ll remember.”
He looked so serious. So scared.
You nodded. “Promise?”
He nodded too. “Promise.”
You hugged each other tightly. His cheek against your hair.
Neither of you said goodbye.
But Ezra never came back.
Not for twelve years.
And when he did…
He didn’t remember you.
High school.
He walks like royalty now.
Tall. Beautiful. Cold.
The strongest boy in school. Feared. Worshipped. Untouchable.
And you?
You're nothing to him.
Just a shy, quiet nerd he mocks for fun.
He’s cruel.
He throws things at you in class. Once, he cracked an egg on your head in front of everyone. Yellow dripped down your hair and face while the others screamed with laughter.
“Didn’t know losers laid eggs too,” he sneered.
He tripped you in the hallway.
Pulled your books from your arms.
Told the school you stank like “someone who lives in a basement.”
You never fought back.
Because you still wore the necklace.
Because some part of you prayed he’d remember.
Then today happened.
Lunch break.
They circled you in the quad like predators.
Boys jeering. Girls laughing. Your bag was ripped open. Your sketchbook thrown in the mud.
“Hey nerd, draw us a self-portrait. Here, let me help—”
Someone shoved you hard.
You hit the ground. Your glasses slid off. Your elbow scraped open.
And the necklace—
It broke free from under your collar.
And landed at his feet.
Ezra didn’t notice at first.
Then he looked down.
And everything… stopped.
The air turned heavy.
He stared at it—at the fraying string, the familiar charm.
His hands trembled.
A muscle jumped in his jaw. He blinked hard, once. Twice.
And then—
A single tear slid down his cheek.
His chest heaved like he couldn’t breathe.
Flash.
The sun under the tree.
Your tiny fingers wrapped around his.
“Because I love you.”
“I’ll remember.”
His knees buckled.
He whispered, like someone waking up from a long, terrible dream:
“No… no, no, no—”
He staggered forward.
The others laughed, still throwing insults—
Until Ezra snapped.
“Get away from her.”
Silence.
“I SAID—GET AWAY!”
He shoved one guy into a bench. Elbowed another to the ground. Pushed his own friends, even girls screaming his name.
“Don’t touch her. Don’t look at her. Don’t you dare.”
He stood above you, shaking.
Then—he dropped to his knees.
And pulled you into his arms so tightly, like he could make the years disappear if he just held you hard enough.
Your glasses fogged with tears.
You could barely breathe in his chest.
You felt him trembling.
You felt his heart pounding.
Then you heard it—
His voice, broken. Raw. Choked.
“I’m sorry…”
“I forgot…”
He held you tighter, as if trying to glue the necklace—and your soul—back together.
“I’m sorry I forgot.”
His forehead pressed against your shoulder.
You felt hot tears hit your skin.
“I said I’d come back.”
“I said I’d remember.”
“And I hurt you instead.”