Echoes of what was
463 Words
The next few days felt like walking through a maze built from old memories.
Lisa and Anthony saw each other often now meetings, discussions, design reviews—but every encounter felt like standing too close to fire.
He spoke formally, she responded politely, yet between their words lived all the things neither dared to say.
One morning, Lisa arrived early to prepare charts for the construction proposal. The conference room was quiet—until Anthony walked in, sleeves rolled up, sketches in hand.
“Morning,” he said gently.
She nodded. “You’re early.”
He smiled faintly. “Old habit. I like working before the noise starts.”
Lisa gave a small laugh. “You mean before people start talking too much?”
“Something like that.”
He paused, then looked at her. “You haven’t changed.”
She turned toward him, unsure how to respond.
“Maybe not on the outside,” she said softly, “but everything else did.”
Anthony’s expression faltered. “Lisa…”
“Don’t,” she whispered. “We’re not those people anymore.”
He looked down at the floor. “Maybe we’re not. But every time I see you, I wish we could be.”
Later that week, they visited the hospital’s rooftop the future site of the children’s garden Anthony was designing.
The air was cool, carrying the faint scent of rain and blooming jasmine. The city stretched around them like an endless heartbeat.
Lisa leaned against the railing. “It’s beautiful up here. The kids will love it.”
Anthony smiled. “That’s the idea. A place to remind them that healing isn’t just medicine it’s hope.”
She turned toward him. “You really haven’t changed, have you? Still the dreamer.”
“And you,” he said quietly, “still the reason I believed in dreams.”
Lisa froze.
For a long moment, the world felt still again just like six years ago.
Her voice came out barely above a whisper.
“Why are you saying this now, Anthony?”
“Because I lost you once,” he said, stepping closer, “and I don’t know if I could survive losing you again.”
Her eyes glistened. “You already did.”
And then she walked away—leaving him standing beneath the open sky, heart pounding with everything he never said.
That night, Anthony sat in his apartment, staring at the half-finished blueprints.
He wasn’t thinking about lines or structures.
He was thinking about her her laugh, her strength, and the way her eyes carried both pain and forgiveness.
Some loves never fade. They just wait for the right moment to return.
And Anthony couldn’t shake the feeling that this whatever was happening between them was their second chance.
- Writer
