Chapter 4 The River Remembers
1208 Words
Eleanor wasn’t sure what compelled her to walk toward the river. Maybe it was the way the sunlight slipped through the trees in soft golden ribbons, or how the breeze carried the faint scent of moss and morning dew. Maybe it was simply instinct—the pull toward the one place that had held her hardest memories and her softest ones too.
The narrow path leading to the river hadn’t changed. Wild grass brushed against her legs as she walked, whispering against her clothes. The dirt beneath her shoes was firm but familiar, worn down by the footsteps of years she could still feel on her skin.
She slowed as she reached the clearing.
The river looked almost exactly as it had when she was sixteen—silver ripples dancing across the water’s surface, sunlight glinting off the small stones beneath. It moved with a slow, careful grace, as if the current understood the weight of what it carried.
Eleanor inhaled deeply.
Here, in this place, she had learned what it meant to dream.
And here, she had learned what it meant to break.
Her fingers curled at her sides.
She wasn’t ready to be here, but she had come anyway. Maybe that meant something.
She stepped closer to the water’s edge, staring at her reflection shifting with every ripple—softened, stretched, distorted. A version of herself she didn’t quite recognize.
Her throat tightened.
“You’re still beautiful.”
The voice came from behind her—quiet but unmistakable.
Her breath caught. She didn’t turn immediately; her heart needed a moment to brace itself.
Gabriel.
He approached slowly, his footsteps muffled by the grass. Eleanor felt him before she truly saw him—the warmth he carried, the presence that wrapped around her like a memory waking up.
“You shouldn’t sneak up on people,” she said, her voice steadying itself.
Gabriel let out a breath that might have been a laugh. “You always said you could hear me coming a mile away.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“I know,” he murmured. “But I still hoped some things hadn’t changed.”
She swallowed. “A lot has changed, Gabriel.”
“I can see that.”
When she finally turned toward him, he was standing a few feet away—close enough for her to see the quiet conflict in his eyes, the regret woven between years he hadn’t spoken aloud.
His gaze swept her face, lingering in a way that felt too intimate, too familiar. And yet, she didn’t look away.
“I didn’t follow you,” Gabriel said gently. “I was walking this way… and then I saw you.”
“You don’t have to explain.”
“Maybe I do.”
Silence settled between them, soft and heavy.
Gabriel took a step closer, but slowly—like he was afraid to break something fragile. “Eleanor… I’m not here to make this harder.”
“Then what are you here for?”
“To tell you the truth,” he whispered.
Her stomach tightened.
He gestured toward the river. “This place… it remembers everything, doesn’t it?”
“It does,” she said quietly. “Even what we try to forget.”
Gabriel’s expression softened. “I didn’t leave Eden Glen because of you.”
“That’s not how it felt.”
“I know.” He swallowed hard. “And I’m sorry for that. You deserved better than the way I left. Better than silence. Better than… the boy I was.”
The ache behind her ribs pressed deeper. “Then why did you go?”
Gabriel looked away for a moment, his jaw tightening, as though gathering courage he’d never needed before. “My father was getting worse. You knew some of it… but not the worst parts. The drinking. The anger. The nights that didn’t end quietly.” He stopped, voice roughening. “He scared me, Ellie. Scared me in ways I didn’t know how to admit.”
Eleanor blinked, stunned into stillness.
“I wasn’t running from you,” Gabriel said. “I was running from him.”
Her breath trembled.
Gabriel stepped closer, his voice softer now. “My mother begged me to leave that night. Told me if I stayed, I’d turn out just like him. I couldn’t risk that. Not for her. Not for me. Not for you.”
Her heart stung. “You could’ve told me.”
“I was eighteen and terrified,” he said. “I didn’t know how to stay… and I didn’t know how to say goodbye without breaking you.”
“You broke me anyway.”
“I know.” His voice cracked. “And I’ve lived with that guilt every day.”
The river murmured beside them—gentle, unchanged, steady in its remembering.
Eleanor turned slightly, looking at the water as it moved around the stones. “You meant everything to me, Gabriel. Back then… I thought what we had would last forever.”
Gabriel took a breath that seemed to shake through his whole body. “You were the best part of my life. The one thing that made me feel like I wasn’t my father’s son.”
Her eyes stung with tears she didn’t want to shed—not in front of him. Not now.
“I’m not the same person you left behind,” she whispered.
“I know.” His gaze didn’t waver. “But I’m not the same person who left you, either.”
Eleanor looked away, letting silence settle again. The sunlight broke through the trees overhead, scattering patterns across the river—like pieces of light trying to find their place.
Gabriel moved closer, just enough for her to feel the warmth of him, though he didn’t touch her.
“You don’t owe me forgiveness,” he said. “You don’t owe me anything. But I’m here, Eleanor. And I’m not running this time. Not from you. Not from this.”
“Gabriel…”
“You don’t have to decide anything today.” His voice softened even more. “Just let me try. Let me show you I mean what I say.”
Eleanor breathed slowly, trying to make sense of the swirl inside her—the hurt, the longing, the fear, the hope. All tangled together in ways she hadn’t prepared herself for.
Gabriel stepped beside her, leaving only a small space between them. He didn’t reach for her. He didn’t push. He simply stood there with the quiet kind of patience she’d forgotten he had.
The river flowed past, humming with memories of who they used to be.
But for the first time in a long time, it felt like it was offering them something else.
A chance.
A beginning.
A way forward.
Eleanor kept her eyes on the water.
“I don’t know if I’m ready,” she whispered.
“Then I’ll wait,” Gabriel said. “For however long it takes.”
A single tear slipped down her cheek. She didn’t wipe it away.
And Gabriel didn’t pretend he didn’t see it.
The river remembered everything.
But maybe…
just maybe…
it was ready to witness something new.
- Writer
