I took a car and drive away, i didn't want to see the house.
I stopped at my favourite place.
The ocean always knew my secrets.
It had been years since I last came to that beach the one lined with palm trees and laughter, where the world seemed softer, smaller, safer.
At the far end stood "Blue Tide Bar", glowing with its flickering neon sign. It hadn't changed a bit. And neither had he.
"Lucas"
My first crush.
He was behind the counter, sleeves rolled up, polishing a glass when he saw me. For a moment, time stumbled and so did my breath.
"Elara?" His voice carried over the low music, half-surprised, half-relieved.
I smiled faintly. "Hi, stranger."
He came around the counter and pulled me into an embrace. His arms were warm, familiar, and for the first time in months, I felt something like safety.
"You disappeared," he said softly, stepping back to look at me. "Three years, and not a single word."
"Life happened," I murmured, forcing a smile. "And then… stopped happening, I guess."
He studied my face. "You look tired."
I laughed quietly. "I feel… finite."
He didn't ask what that meant, not yet. He just poured me a drink, the same one I used to love lime, mint, and a whisper of something stronger.
"Still remember my order?" I asked.
He smiled. "Some things don't fade."
We sat on the sand outside the bar, watching the sunset melt into the waves. The light painted his face gold, and I realized how much I'd missed the way he looked at me not through me, not past me, but *at* me.
"Does he make you happy?" he asked quietly.
The question stung. I looked down at my hands. "He doesn't even remember today."
Lucas didn't reply. Instead, he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from my face, his fingers lingering for a heartbeat longer than they should have.
I closed my eyes. For that moment, I wasn't a dying woman or a forgotten wife just someone who wanted to feel alive again.
When I opened my eyes, our faces were close.
Too close.
It wasn't planned. It wasn't careful. It was two people holding onto a moment before it disappeared.
Later, as we sat wrapped in silence and moonlight, I rested my head on his shoulder.
"I don't know how long I have left," I said softly.
He turned to me, eyes searching mine.
"Then let's make what's left count"
And for the first time since the report arrived, I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, I still had something worth living for.