“We’re all children sometimes. Just let go.”
And then it slipped out of me—so naturally, without thinking. Words I’d never said aloud before.
“I can only imagine what our children would be like… if you’re this wild.” I teased, watching her fly through the air on the swing.
She slowed down instantly, dragging her feet along the gravel to stop. She hopped off the swing and walked straight to me, eyes shining. Without a word, she placed her hand over my heart and looked up at me—steady, radiant, unafraid.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“For what?” I asked, confused.
“For giving me that picture,” she said softly. “Of us. Together. With children. It’s the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever made me feel.”
I brushed a strand of hair from her face; completely undone by the way she looked at me.
“I think they’d have your smile,” I said, my voice quieter now. “Your spark. Your ridiculous need to argue with everything I say... sometimes.”
She laughed softly, and I felt it echo somewhere deep in my ribs.
“I hope they’d have your heart,” she replied. “You’d be a wonderful father, Dorian.”
And in that second, something inside me gave in.
I kissed her like I already knew—this was it. She was it. The one who made everything else fade.
In her eyes, I saw not just a dream, but a life. A future I never dared believe I could have.
And I loved every second of it.
* * *
Now I stand here again, staring at that empty swing across from me, and I feel something I’ve refused to name for years.
Love.
That deep, stubborn love we shared five years ago.
The kind I thought I’d buried forever. The kind I convinced myself she didn’t deserve after she left.
But I was wrong.
It’s still here—patient, quiet, waiting beneath every scar and every grudge.
And now, it’s tangled with something else.
Anger.
Because part of me still burns at the way she disappeared.
No calls. No letters. No explanations.
She just went back home and rebuilt her life—without me.
That’s what I saw in those photos—those cold, undeniable images that left no room for questions.
And somewhere beneath all that anger… there’s something even harder to face.
Fear.
