Then Ethan reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out something small and familiar.
"I… I kept this," he said, laying the photo gently on the table.
It was a snapshot. Steph had taken it months ago during our second date. The picture showed Mara laughing, head tilted back, one hand over her chest, and Ethan beside her, not looking at the camera, just smiling at her like she was the only person in the world.
Mara's breath caught.
"I never knew he even took this," she whispered, tracing the edges of the photo with her fingertips.
"I did," Ethan said. Their laughter quieted into something more delicate, like glass that could crack if anyone said the wrong thing.
They sat there, side by side, holding onto a memory like it could anchor them, as it could still mean something if they remembered it clearly enough.
Mara didn't cry. She didn't have to. The smile on her lips, soft and trembling, said it all: This was real. Once. Maybe still.
