We both smiled, and the moment hung in the air, filled with the promise of new memories to be made. May's eyes sparkled with excitement, and I felt happy knowing I had made her day special.
As the nights passed, we continued to meet by the lakeside, talking about little things. She brought along her sketchbook, filling its pages with drawings, while I sat nearby, watching her lines take shape and feeling content just being there.
One night, as I arrived, I saw her crouched on the ground, picking something up. I walked closer and asked softly, "May, what happened?"
She looked up at me with a faint sadness in her eyes. "My bracelet broke," she said quietly, "the beads scattered everywhere."
Without another word, I knelt beside her, and together we searched the grass, collecting each bead one by one. It took us a while, but at last we gathered them all. May carefully wrapped the beads in her handkerchief before standing to leave.
I watched her walk away, a little slower than usual, and I felt a heaviness I couldn't explain. Maybe it was because she was sad, or maybe it was because I had seen the tear that nearly fell from her eyes.