The iron gates of the Deveraux estate's private cemetery creaked open with a low sigh. Mist drifted above the marble path, curling around the angel statues that guarded each grave. In her hands, Elle carried a bouquet of deep-red roses cut from her own garden that morning—thorns trimmed carefully, petals still beaded with dew.
Her heels clicked softly against the cobblestone path as she walked past the graves of ancestors whose names she barely remembered. But she stopped—always—where two headstones stood side by side. The inscription gleamed faintly, polished clean every month without fail.
> Alaric Deveraux.
A devoted husband and father.
Isabelle Deveraux.
Her love made our world bloom.
Elle set the bouquet of fresh red roses against the base of the gravestone. Her fingers lingered on the petals, trembling slightly.
"Hi, Mama… Papa," she murmured, her voice gentle, yet heavy with longing. "It's been a while."
The silence around her deepened. She sat on the edge of the small stone bench nearby, clasping her hands together.
"Do you remember, Papa," she whispered, her lips curving in a faint smile, "you once told me that your parents… my grandparents… would have been so happy to meet me?"
Her eyes softened, recalling his deep voice and the faint smile that used to crease his tired eyes.
> "They would have been so happy to meet you, my sunshine," he had said. "When my mother left this world, I was left with a grieving father. He didn't know how to show love—only discipline. He was strict, but I knew he loved me. And when I met your mother, I finally understood what it meant to feel whole again."
Elle could still see the scene vividly—her father's arm wrapped around her mother's shoulders, her mother laughing softly at something he said.
> "My father didn't want me to marry her," he had continued that day, smiling wistfully, "but I couldn't walk away from the love of my life. I followed my heart… and in the end, he accepted her. Later, he told me that marrying her was the best decision I'd ever made."
Little Elle hadn't understood those words back then, but she had remembered the warmth in their embrace. Now, standing there years later, that warmth felt like a distant dream.
Her voice trembled as she looked at the gravestones. "You were right, Papa. Love… does make us whole. But it also leaves us empty when it's gone."
She took a deep breath, blinking away tears. "I'm still here, though. I'm trying to live the life you both wanted for me. I'm not completely alone. Martha and Edric… they take care of me in their own ways. And my cat—she keeps me company. Even though we're not family by blood, they feel like home."
Her gaze fell on the roses again. "I even made a few friends," she said softly. "You'd like them. They make me laugh. I'm… learning to move forward."
The wind stirred her hair as she exhaled shakily. "I nearly met you both again, you know. I had an accident recently—diving. For a moment, I really thought it was the end. I was so close… so close to seeing you again." She smiled faintly, her voice breaking. "But I guess fate had other plans."
The clouds shifted, and sunlight fell on the gravestones again—soft, golden, almost like a gentle blessing. Elle watched in silence for a moment, then whispered, "I'll visit again soon. Until then… I'll keep going."
---
The mansion was quiet when she returned. Evening light slanted through the tall windows, catching on the marble floor and the frames that lined the hall. She slipped off her coat and climbed the grand staircase, each step echoing faintly through the stillness.
In the lounge, amber lamps cast soft halos of light over polished furniture and shelves lined with old books and family photographs. The faint scent of lilies drifted from a vase on the piano. Elle sank into the long velvet couch, exhaustion spreading through her limbs.
Her phone buzzed on the coffee table.
Amara:
> Hey stranger. Haven't heard from you all day.
Elle:
> Went out for a bit. Needed some air.
Amara:
> You always do that when something's on your mind. But fine—consider this me dragging you out tomorrow.
Willow & Lace Café at noon?
Elle:
> That sounds nice.
Amara:
> Good! Oh, and is it okay if he joins?
Elle stared at the screen, thumb hovering.
Elle:
> You mean Kai?
Amara:
> Mhm. He's been quiet since the diving thing. Maybe seeing everyone will help.
Elle:
> Sure. Invite him. I'll message him too.
Amara:
> And maybe Noah. You know how he hates missing out. 😅
Elle:
> Then it's settled. Tomorrow it is.
Amara:
> See you, Elle. And try sleeping tonight, okay? 💛
Elle:
> I'll try.
She placed the phone down and leaned back. The room hummed softly with the ticking of the old clock. Through the tall windows, the city lights shimmered faintly beyond the trees. Somewhere deep inside, a strange calm pressed against her chest—fragile but real.
Outside, night folded around the mansion, and for the first time in days, Elle let herself drift into uneasy sleep.
----
Morning came pale and clean. Sunlight spilled through Elle's bedroom curtains, catching dust motes in gold. She moved through her routine quietly—tea, a light breakfast, the faint sound of the fountain outside. By the time she descended the staircase, Edric was waiting in the front hall, hands folded behind his back.
"Miss Elle," he began, eyes drawn with concern, "you're meeting your friends today?"
"Yes," she said, fastening her watch. "At Willow & Lace."
He hesitated. "About the diving incident… I've been speaking to one of the crew. There are things that trouble me—"
She lifted her gaze, gentle but firm. "Edric, I know. But I'm heading out now. When I return, we'll talk in the study. I promise."
For a moment he looked as if he might insist, then simply bowed. "Very well, Miss Elle. Please drive safe."
She smiled faintly and stepped out into the crisp daylight. The car hummed down the long driveway, past the wrought-iron gates and into the pulse of the city.
---
The Willow & Lace Café sat at the corner of a quiet street, its windows misted from the warmth inside. Tiny vines curled up the brick walls, and the smell of roasted beans and vanilla drifted through the air.
Amara waved the moment Elle entered. "You actually showed up on time! Miracles happen!"
Elle laughed softly, shrugging off her coat. "I was nearby."
Noah, already halfway through a muffin, grinned. "By 'nearby' she means thirty minutes away, guaranteed."
"Don't scare her off before the coffee arrives," Amara scolded, swatting his arm.
Then Kai appeared from the corner table, tall and calm as ever, though his expression carried the same restrained unease she had seen since the accident. "Morning," he said, his voice even.
Elle met his eyes briefly. "Hey."
They took a table by the window. Steam curled from their cups; outside, rain threatened the sky.
Amara leaned forward. "So. Life check. Elle, how's recovery?"
"I'm fine," Elle said, tracing the rim of her cup. "Mostly just… tired."
"Physically or mentally?" Noah asked.
"Both," she admitted.
Kai spoke quietly. "You shouldn't push yourself too fast."
She looked at him, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I'll take that as medical advice?"
"Friendly advice," he said, meeting her gaze. For a second the noise of the café dulled, the air thick between them.
Amara clapped her hands. "Okay, this is getting too serious. Movie after this, all of us. No arguments."
Noah groaned. "Not another tear-jerker, please."
"Exactly a tear-jerker," she said. "We all need an emotional reset."
---
The cinema was nearly empty—a weekday matinee. The film was a quiet romantic drama, full of pauses and lingering glances, the kind that made the audience whisper rather than laugh. Elle found herself lost in it; the gentle music, the ache of two people finding each other too late.
Halfway through, she felt Kai glance her way. Their eyes met for a breath before both turned back to the screen. Something wordless hung there, neither tender nor simple—just recognition.
When the credits rolled, Noah stretched. "Well, I cried internally."
"You cry at everything," Amara teased.
"I have emotions," he defended, earning laughter from the table.
Elle smiled, genuinely this time. "Dinner?"
"Rooftop at Aurelian?" Amara suggested. "The view's gorgeous."
"Perfect," Elle said.
---
The Aurelian Rooftop glowed under strings of golden lights. The city spread out beneath them, cars like scattered jewels. A soft breeze carried the scent of grilled herbs and the sound of distant music.
They ordered shared dishes—creamy truffle pasta, grilled chicken glazed with herbs, roasted vegetables, and a platter of seared beef slices drizzled with honey pepper sauce. A bottle of sparkling water caught the light like crystal, its bubbles rising in a lazy dance beneath the warm glow of the table lamp.
Amara told a story about a disastrous date that left everyone laughing. Noah joined in with absurd commentary; Elle's laughter came easily, freer than it had in weeks.
Kai watched quietly, the edge of his lips curving but his thoughts elsewhere.
When their food arrived, Amara lifted her glass. "To second chances," she said.
Elle met her eyes and touched her glass to hers. "To second chances," she echoed.
Noah added, "And to not drowning during vacations," earning a collective groan.
"Too soon," Amara said, shaking her head.
Kai's voice was calm. "Maybe not soon enough." He turned to Elle. "You scared us."
The laughter faded slightly. Elle set her glass down. "I scared myself," she admitted. "It felt like the world went quiet for a moment—like I was somewhere else."
Kai's brow furrowed. "Somewhere else?"
She looked away, the city lights flickering across her face. "It doesn't matter. I'm here now."
The table fell into a thoughtful silence before Amara gently shifted the topic to music, stories, and the best dessert on the menu. By the time they finished, the night had grown soft and cool.
Outside the restaurant, they lingered near their cars.
"This was nice," Amara said, hugging Elle. "I missed us."
"Me too," Elle replied.
Noah saluted lazily. "Next time, my treat. Assuming my paycheck arrives."
They all laughed, the sound echoing against the quiet street.
Elle turned to Kai. "Thank you for coming."
"Wouldn't have missed it," he said. For a second, neither looked away. Then she smiled faintly and stepped into her car.
---
Kai's POV
As her taillights disappeared, Kai stood alone by his bike, the night pressing close around him. The others had driven off, their laughter fading into distance.
He exhaled, but the tightness in his chest didn't ease. The image of Elle—pale and unconscious on the deck, water streaming from her hair—flashed behind his eyes.
He'd told himself it was over, that she was safe. But when she'd said, "I was somewhere else," something inside him clenched.
That feeling again—the one he thought he'd buried years ago.
The sound of waves. A body slipping from his grasp. His own voice, raw and breaking, screaming her name into the dark.
He shut his eyes, gripping the handle of the bike until his knuckles whitened.
Not again.
The night wind carried the faint scent of salt even this far from the sea, and his stomach turned. Her words from the deck echoed in his memory:
> "You knew this would happen! You did this, right? Who told you to do this?"
He'd thought it was delirium. Now he wasn't sure.
He started the engine, the roar masking the tremor in his breath. Somewhere deep inside, a question clawed its way to the surface—a name he hadn't spoken in years, buried beneath guilt and silence.
And for the first time since the accident, he wondered if the past he'd tried to forget had finally begun to follow him back.
----