"Grace…!" Eugene calls, his voice carrying just enough urgency to make her pause.
She turns, meeting his gaze.
"Yeah?" she asks, curiosity and caution warring in her expression.
Eugene hesitates, searching for the right words.
"If you don't mind… you can sit with us. You can have some food—we've got plenty."
His eyes flick to his wife, Karen, and he offers her a small, asking smile.
Karen's face lights up, her nod warm and inviting.
"Yes, please. You're more than welcome. Come sit."
Grace's lips press together as doubt creeps in.
We barely know each other… she thinks, a flicker of hesitation tightening her chest.
But then she notices the steaming bowls of soup, the comforting aroma curling in the air, and the genuine warmth in their smiles. Slowly, the tension in her shoulders eases.
"Thanks. I'll just sit for a little while," she says, her voice softer than she expects.
She steps closer, settling onto the small bench opposite them. The wood creaks under her weight, and for a moment, the world narrows to the quiet closeness of the three of them, the simple warmth of hot food bridging the gap between strangers.
Karen looks at Grace and smiles warmly.
"Hi, nice to meet you. I'm Karen. Make yourself comfortable—here's a fork."
"Thanks. And hi, I'm Grace," Grace replies, returning the smile.
Her eyes flick to Eugene, teasing lightly.
"I didn't know you were so welcoming… inviting even a customer you just saw to your little lunch picnic," she says, a soft chuckle escaping her.
Eugene smiles awkwardly, a hint of color rising in his cheeks. Inside, his mind races with a different reason for calling her over—he wants to know more about her, to ask the questions he's held back, questions sparked by his friend Julian.
"So, Grace," Eugene says, leaning back slightly, trying for an easy tone, "you came by for the marathon. To watch it?"
Grace shakes her head, tilting it slightly.
"No, I didn't even know there was a marathon today. How about you two? Are you here for it?"
Karen nods, her smile bright.
"Yes, a friend of ours is running today."
"Oh," Grace murmurs, giving a small nod. "Excuse me, but you two are…"
Eugene grins, a teasing sparkle in his eyes.
"We're married."
Grace's eyes widen just a fraction before she smiles.
"Ah, I see. I recognized you from the wedding picture at the studio. You two look… really great together."
Karen beams, a soft warmth in her gaze, and nods.
"Thank you."
There's a brief pause, a comfortable quiet, filled only by the gentle clatter of utensils and the faint scent of warm soup. Grace feels a flutter of ease she hadn't expected, and Eugene can't help but notice it.
"We just got married very recently," Karen adds with a soft smile.
"Oh," Grace says, nodding knowingly. "Congrats! Good to know."
Eugene's eyes linger on Grace, studying her from the side. His mind races, trying to find the right words—there are so many questions he wants to ask.
Grace notices his steady gaze and tilts her head slightly, a small, awkward smile forming.
"Yeah?" she asks, a hint of curiosity in her voice.
"Well…" Eugene begins, his tone low, deliberate. "Have you ever heard that you look like someone?"
Grace pauses, furrowing her brows.
"Well… not really. Why?"
"Because you remind me of someone I know," Eugene says, his voice carrying an unusual weight, almost hidden behind casual words.
Grace feels a strange, almost electric unease. There's something beneath his words, something he isn't saying.
Karen glances at Eugene and chuckles lightly.
"Hey, Eugene, don't surprise her like that."
Eugene smiles in return, a soft, amused curl of his lips.
But Grace doesn't laugh. She studies him intently, her curiosity sharpening.
"Eugene, right?" she says, recalling his name from the photo studio reservation.
Eugene nods.
Grace leans forward slightly, her voice calm but probing.
"Do you know me by any chance?"
Eugene hesitates, his fingers tightening slightly around the edge of the table. Part of him wants to tell Grace everything—to make her remember the past, to let her know the truth Julian has been waiting for. But another part freezes, unsure what he should do, unsure if the timing is right.
Karen watches him with curiosity in her eyes, unaware of the unspoken tension.
Grace squints slightly, leaning forward.
"Last time you called my name like you already knew me. Even if you saw it from my email, it felt too familiar. Do you know me perhaps?"
Eugene swallows, his mind spinning.
Yeah, I know you—but you don't know me. I can't exactly say I know you… I've only heard of you from June, he thinks, the truth stuck behind his lips.
Grace's voice softens but grows insistent.
"It's important to me. I… I recently lost my memories, and I really want to know. Do you know something about me? Do we know each other?"
Her words hit him with an unexpected weight, and for a moment, he freezes. So many thoughts tumble through his mind, each one louder than the last, but he forces himself to remain calm.
"I… I have many customers, so I sometimes confuse their faces," Eugene says finally, his voice soft and measured. "But you… you seemed familiar. And your name—I always check email names carefully, to make sure I send the files to the right person, keep proper records… that's how I knew you were Grace."
He keeps his gaze steady, careful not to reveal too much, though a subtle tension lingers beneath his calm words. Grace nods slowly, listening, but she senses that there is more—something he isn't saying.
It's not the right time to expose her without June's words, Eugene thinks, keeping his expression calm.
Grace nods slowly, a faint shadow of disappointment crossing her features.
"I see…" she murmurs, her voice soft, almost wistful.
Karen, sensing the quiet awkwardness between them, leans forward with a bright smile, eager to ease the tension.
"Our friend is running in the marathon right now," she says, her tone cheerful. "He's so focused, so into it. Almost like a professional marathon athlete."
"Wow," Grace says, her confident smile cutting through the crisp winter air. "A marathon… in this cold? That's impressive."
Eugene parts his lips, hesitating, a storm of unspoken words flickering behind his eyes. He swallows them down.
"He's not a professional marathon runner," Eugene finally says, a chuckle escaping him. "He actually teaches at the school, but running… he lives for it. I always tell him he could go pro if he wanted."
Karen chuckles, her nod punctuating the thought, a warm spark in her eyes as she thinks of their friend Julian and his relentless love for running.
Grace tilts her head, observing them.
"So you're both out here, waiting in this winter freeze, while your friend's marathon is already over?"
Karen smiles, a soft, knowing curl of her lips.
"Yeah."
Grace shakes her head in quiet admiration.
"Wow, that's a real friendship."
Eugene leans back slightly, a grin tugging at his face. "Not just friends. Lifetime friends. Close ones."
Grace nods slowly, letting the weight of the words settle. "I see."
Karen's eyes glint as she adds, "He introduced us… and eventually, we got married."
"That's… incredible," Grace murmurs, awe threading her tone. "So he really is a special friend to both of you."
Eugene's expression shifts, growing more serious.
"About that memory loss... are you all right now?"
Grace blinks, caught off guard, her surprise flickering across her face like sunlight through winter branches.
Meanwhile, Julian pounds the pavement, each stride cutting through the crisp winter air. The marathon course stretches ahead, a ribbon of runners scattered like autumn leaves in the wind—some sprinting with ferocious speed, others settling into steadier, slower rhythms. Gaps open and close as bodies surge and ebb.
Julian falls just above the average pace, weaving smoothly through the crowd. Ahead, elite runners blaze like streaks of light, but he keeps a steady rhythm, each breath controlled, each footfall deliberate. The cold wind bites at his face, tugging at his hair, brushing it back as if trying to keep up with him.
And in the quiet pulse between heartbeats, his mind drifts—not to the finish line, not to the cheering spectators—but to Grace. He remembers seeing her earlier, the way she smiled while waiting at the starting line, her presence a small, bright spark against the winter chill. That memory drives him forward almost as much as his legs, a secret warmth propelling him through the cold, the distance, the relentless rhythm of the marathon.
He runs, stride after stride, completely unaware that Grace is here with his friends, just a few steps away from his world.
Grace hesitates, her gaze flicking to Eugene, searching for something steady, something familiar. Finally, she speaks, her voice quiet but firm.
"I'm okay, physically, I would say. And mentally too," she adds, a faint, fragile smile brushing her lips.
Karen watches her, her eyes soft and tender, full of unspoken support.
"But…" Grace's voice falters, dipping into a shadowed corner of her mind. "I've lost so many memories. Right now, I'm just trying to recall them, but it's not easy. I don't have many resources. And I'm afraid, I guess."
Eugene's eyes flicker, a storm of concern and something deeper flashing across them, unspoken yet palpable in the winter air.