The crisp autumn air carried a faint scent of fallen leaves as Nathaniel and Sophia strolled hand in hand along the cobblestone path. The sun was low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the ground. Their laughter from moments ago had softened into a comfortable silence, the kind that only comes with trust and time. As they turned a corner, the wrought-iron gates of the graveyard came into view. Nathaniel’s steps faltered. The familiar ache in his chest bloomed, tightening with every step closer. He hadn’t realized they’d wandered this far, hadn’t expected to see the place he had been avoiding for two long years.
“Nate?” Sophia’s voice was soft, her hand giving his a light squeeze.
But Nathaniel didn’t respond. His gaze was fixed on the gates, and his breath caught in his throat.
She was there.
{{user}}.
Standing just inside the gate, her figure illuminated by the fading light. Her hair danced softly in the breeze, and her green eyes, once so full of life, now held a deep, sorrowful weight. She wore the white sundress he’d loved, the one she’d worn the day she told him she couldn’t imagine a future without him. She was watching him. Her expression was one of quiet sadness.
Sophia stopped beside him, her brow furrowing. “Nathaniel? Are you okay?”
He barely heard her. His pulse thundered in his ears, drowning out everything else. He couldn’t move, couldn’t tear his eyes away. {{user}}’s gaze was piercing, as though she was searching for something in him—an answer, perhaps, or a goodbye he’d never given.
“Nate?” Sophia’s voice was more insistent now, worry creeping into it.
Finally, he forced himself to blink and broke the connection. He looked down at the ground, trying to steady his breathing. “I’m fine,” he muttered, though his voice was hollow.
Sophia followed his line of sight to the gates, but she saw nothing. Just iron but she saw nothing. Just iron bars and the gentle sway of the trees beyond. “Are you sure?” “I just…It’s nothing. Just memories .”