A Memory In The Rain
1144 Words
The rain began just before noon.
Dark clouds rolled over the city, swallowing the bright morning sky as thunder rumbled in the distance. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Blackwood Holdings, employees hurried across the streets below with umbrellas raised high.
Elena paused outside Adrian’s office, balancing a stack of neatly arranged files in her arms. She knocked twice.
“Come in.”
She stepped inside.
Adrian sat behind his desk, reading through a contract with his usual calm expression. His sleeves were rolled to his forearms, and the top button of his shirt was undone, a rare sign that he had been working for hours without a break.
“I’ve arranged your schedule for tomorrow,” Elena said, placing the files in front of him. “The Singapore investors confirmed the meeting, and the legal team has approved the merger documents.”
Without looking up, Adrian nodded.
“Anything else?”
She hesitated.
“You haven’t eaten lunch.”
That finally made him lift his eyes.
“I’ll eat later.”
“You said that yesterday.”
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
“Were you keeping track?”
“It’s part of my job to make sure my boss doesn’t collapse from exhaustion.”
For a brief moment, they simply looked at each other before Adrian chuckled softly.
“I didn’t realize my assistant was this strict.”
Elena folded her arms playfully.
“I learned from the best.”
He shook his head, amused.
“Fine. Five minutes.”
She smiled triumphantly.
“I’ll order something.”
As she turned to leave, Adrian called after her.
“Elena.”
She looked back.
“Thank you.”
The words caught her off guard.
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“I do.”
His voice was unusually gentle.
“Most people only care about the company. You seem to care about the person.”
Elena’s heart skipped.
“I think everyone deserves someone who checks if they’ve eaten.”
For reasons he couldn’t explain, those words settled deeply inside him.
Seven years ago…
Someone had said something almost identical.
⸻
Later that afternoon, the rain intensified.
Most of the employees had gathered near the windows, admiring the storm.
Elena stood quietly in the hallway, watching raindrops race down the glass.
“I’ve always loved rainy days.”
The words slipped from her lips without thinking.
Behind her, Adrian stopped walking.
His breathing caught.
That sentence.
Those exact words.
He had heard them once before.
A frightened teenage boy sat alone beneath a leaking bus stop, drenched from the rain and convinced the world had forgotten him.
Then a cheerful girl had appeared with a faded blue umbrella.
“I’ve always loved rainy days,” she had said with a smile. “Rain reminds me that even storms don’t last forever.”
The memory was so vivid that Adrian could almost hear her voice.
He slowly walked toward Elena.
“You really love the rain?”
She smiled as she watched the streets below.
“I always have.”
“Why?”
She laughed softly.
“I don’t know. It just makes me feel peaceful.”
A strange ache settled in Adrian’s chest.
Could it really be her?
He wanted to tell her everything.
To show her the old bus ticket he still kept in his wallet.
To tell her she had unknowingly saved a lonely sixteen-year-old boy who had lost hope.
But what if she didn’t remember?
What if she thought he was imagining things?
“What are you thinking about?” Elena asked.
He blinked, realizing he had been staring at her.
“Nothing.”
She smiled knowingly.
“That’s not true.”
He looked away.
“I’ve just been remembering someone.”
Her curiosity grew.
“Someone important?”
“The most important.”
She expected him to continue.
Instead, silence filled the space between them.
⸻
As evening approached, Daniel entered Adrian’s office carrying several folders.
“I need your signature.”
Adrian barely glanced at the papers.
“Leave them there.”
Daniel noticed the thoughtful expression on his friend’s face.
“You’ve been distracted all day.”
“I know.”
“Because of her?”
Adrian didn’t answer.
Daniel sighed.
“You can’t keep waiting forever.”
“I don’t want to scare her.”
“You won’t.”
“What if she doesn’t remember me?”
Daniel leaned against the desk.
“Then you’ll remind her.”
Adrian smiled bitterly.
“It isn’t that simple.”
“No,” Daniel admitted. “But loving someone for seven years wasn’t simple either.”
Adrian lowered his gaze.
“You know… I searched for her everywhere.”
“I know.”
“I visited schools, bus stations, cafés… I even hired investigators.”
“And now she’s here.”
“Working right outside my office.”
Daniel smiled.
“Life has a funny way of returning what we’re afraid we’ve lost.”
⸻
That evening, Elena prepared to leave work.
As she walked through the lobby, she realized she had forgotten her umbrella upstairs.
“Oh no…”
Before she could turn back, the heavy rain poured down harder than before.
A familiar black umbrella appeared above her head.
She looked up.
Adrian.
“You’ll get soaked.”
She smiled.
“I’ll run.”
“You’ll catch a cold.”
She laughed.
“You sound like my mother.”
Without another word, Adrian stepped closer, holding the umbrella so they both fit beneath it.
Their shoulders brushed as they walked toward the parking area.
Neither of them noticed how close they were.
Neither of them spoke.
The silence wasn’t awkward.
It was comforting.
As they reached Elena’s taxi, she turned to him.
“Thank you.”
Adrian looked into her eyes.
For just a second…
He saw not the woman standing before him—
But the teenage girl beneath a blue umbrella who had smiled at a lonely stranger seven years ago.
His fingers instinctively reached into his coat pocket.
The old bus ticket was still there.
Still waiting.
Just like he had.
As Elena drove away, Adrian remained standing in the rain, watching until the taxi disappeared into the distance.
“This time,” he whispered to himself, “I’m not losing you again.”
Little did he know, from inside a black SUV parked across the street, someone had witnessed everything.
Victoria lowered her camera after taking several photographs of the two of them beneath the same umbrella.
Her lips curled into a cold smile.
“So this is where your heart has been all these years, Adrian.”
She started the engine.
“If I can’t have you… neither will she.”
The rain continued to fall, washing over the city as an invisible storm quietly began to gather.
- Writer
