Kyston, continuous drizzle.
Staring at the familiar photo on the tombstone, Tristan Rowe bent over with difficulty, his fingers gently stroked, trembling.
His eyes were misty red, his cheeks wet, indistinguishable between rain and tears.
He never thought this would be their reunion. It was like a knife gouging at his heart, far beyond the burn of strong liquor.
Andre opened the umbrella, but it was pushed away by him moments later.
Andre knew Tristan needed time alone, he looked sympathetically at Tristan, who was drenched, and stepped back a few paces.
After receiving the news of Joy Monroe's burial, they rushed over as quickly as possible.
Tristan simply numbly wiped the rain off her photo.
All these years, he deliberately avoided looking at Joy's old photos, but upon seeing her picture again, he realized memories remained as vivid as ever.
