A boy cried on an old wooden bench overlooking the sea. He thought he was alone, until the weight of another presence settled beside him.
Quiet. Calm. Safe.
He looked up sharply, wiping his face and straightening his posture as if shame itself had been caught watching him.
"I'm sorry," he said, forcing strength into his voice. "I didn't realize anyone else was here."
The old lady beside him kept her gaze fixed on the Dead Sea, unmoving.
"Who made you cry, honey?"
The boy stiffened and turned his face away.
"No one. I just… felt like crying."
"You felt like crying?"
She chuckled softly.
"Come up with a better lie, would you?"
He pouted.
"Who's to say I'm lying?"
"You can't fool me," she replied gently. "I've lived to reach three times your age."
That caught his attention.
"How old are you?"
"That's rude," she said. "Never ask a lady her age."
"I'm sorry," he said quickly. "But I must know."
She smiled faintly.
"Ninety-five. As of this year."
His eyes widened, sparkling with awe.
"Wow… you're so old. You're very lucky."
"I know," she said. "I thank God every day that I still live peacefully."
She lifted a thin finger and pointed toward the distant horizon.
"This is why. Isn't it beautiful?"
He squinted at the endless stretch of water.
"I don't see what's so beautiful," he admitted. "It's just a plain ocean."
"That's exactly why," she replied.
"You're an odd old lady."
She smiled.
The boy shifted, then turned toward her.
"Shouldn't you be enjoying this view with your husband?"
Her eyes finally left the sea. They were warm, but undeniably sad.
"I lost my true love a long time ago."
"I see…"
He hesitated.
"Did he pass away? Or did he leave?"
"Neither," she said plainly.
"Oh. Then, was he ill?"
"No," she replied softly.
She turned fully to face him.
"Tell me, have you ever fallen in love? Or had someone fall in love with you?"
The boy stayed silent, sensing she hadn't finished.
"I once had someone who loved me," she continued. "Loved me despite all my flaws. But I didn't love him back."
"I feel sorry for him," the boy said.
"So do I," she whispered.
"You see, I wasn't ready for love. He promised me the world one day, a quiet life, laughter filling every corner, memories worth growing old with."
The boy leaned in slightly.
"Did he deliver?"
Her mouth tightened.
"No. Not fully. He was still growing. He stumbled often. Life wasn't kind to him."
She paused.
"But he tried. Every single day."
Her expression softened.
"He remembered my favorite color. My birthday. My favorite food. Every conversation we ever had, good or bad. He remembered them all."
She sighed.
"But I was blinded by foolish things. Wealth, status… comfort."
"So you left him because of that?" the boy asked.
"No," she said. "I kept him close. He made me feel seen."
Her voice grew quieter.
"So I kept him as a friend."
"Nothing more?" he asked.
"Nothing more."
"And he stayed?" the boy pressed.
"He chased me," she said. "To the ends of the earth."
"Did you ever give him a chance?"
She shook her head slowly.
"No. I wanted to leave my past behind. And I thought I needed a better man to do that."
The boy looked down.
"I see…"
"May I ask what his name was?" he asked.
She searched the air, as if pulling a memory from dust.
"Donny," she said at last. "I believe that's what his master called him."
The boy looked up, imagining him.
"Donnie, huh…"
He nodded to himself.
"He sounds like a righteous man," the boy said. "Who found the girl of his dreams."
He paused.
"Too bad her soul was pitch black… at the time, at least."
She winced, then exhaled.
"I regret it every day."
"Regret doesn't fix what's broken," the boy said quietly. "I don't know what brought you here today, but you changed how I see things."
"Is that so, honey?"
He stood and stretched, letting out a long yawn.
"Yeeeaaahhh… Sometimes nothing goes your way. And sometimes that's because of our own doing."
She smiled warmly.
"You're a very insightful young man. What's your name?"
"I don't give my name to strangers," he said. "And frankly, I don't like you very much after that story."
She blinked.
"I see…"
"But," he added, "I'll give you my surname. I'm part of the DeCarno family."
Her lips moved silently.
"DeCarno…"
The boy began walking away, then called back over his shoulder.
"I once heard that those who choose to go against their fate may suffer more than they expect."
He paused.
"But if you don't like the look of your future, run the other direction."
He turned back briefly,
smiling.
"At least… that's what my uncle says."
Then he ran, disappearing from her sight.
The old lady continued staring after him.
"…Where have I heard that before?" she whispered.