The sea stretches endlessly before us, its rhythmic waves gently lapping against the hull of the cruise ship as if whispering secrets from the depths. The evening air is crisp, tinged with salt and the faint aroma of the chef’s preparations for the gala dinner. I lean against the railing on the balcony of my cabin, my hands loosely gripping the cool metal, gazing out at the horizon where the setting sun paints the sky in streaks of amber and rose. The year is drawing to a close, and with it comes the inevitable flood of memories—both bitter and sweet—that demand my attention.
Ethan. His name lingers in my mind like the echo of a song I can’t quite forget.
It’s strange how time alters the sharp edges of pain, dulling them to something more bearable, almost nostalgic. There was a time when
