A year.
Three hundred and sixty-five days.
Twelve long months.
One whole lifetime.
That's what it felt like.
He had vanished into a world of strangers.
And she... had stayed behind.
She had lived each day in silence.
Walked through life like a ghost in her own skin.
But she had changed.
Now, when Lydia smiled, it didn't reach her eyes.
When she laughed, it cracked.
And love??
Love became a quiet ache she tucked away beneath her ribs, where no one could reach.
Until he appeared.
A stranger-yet not entirely.
Elior Vance
The older brother of her sister's friend, staying with their family for a few months while he worked on a project in the city.
Tall. Mysterious. Soft-spoken.
He had that artist's aura-careful eyes, quiet voice, and a gaze that stayed just long enough to linger.
He met her during a weekend gathering her sister begged her to attend.
At first, Lydia barely noticed him.
She didn't want to notice anyone.
But then he said something no one had asked her in a long time.
|"What keeps you awake at night?"
It wasn't a pickup line.
It wasn't a joke.
It was honest. Strange. Disarming.
And when she didn't reply, he added gently—
"I don't think it's nightmares. You don't strike me as someone afraid of monsters... just memories."
That made her look at him.
And for the first time in a long while, something stirred in her chest that didn't hurt.
Elior never pushed.
He didn't flirt. He didn't pry.
He just existed beside her.
At dinners. In passing moments.
Quiet conversations in the hallway.
A shared coffee mug in the morning.
He left her notes sometimes. Not love notes— just fragments of thought.
"You don't speak much,but your silence feels like poetry."
And slowly...
Lydia began to breathe again.
But just as the fog started to lift—
The storm returned.
It was a Sunday afternoon. Clouded skies. Light breeze. The kind of day that felt suspended in time.
She was standing near the window, absentmindedly folding a book page, when she saw a black car pull up.
The engine cut off. The door opened.
And Max stepped out.
Time didn't stop. It slammed into her.
Her heart missed a beat-then galloped like it had been waiting for this moment in secret.
He looked older.
Taller.
Colder.
His jaw was sharper, hair swept back in a mess that somehow suited him. He wore a fitted coat over a black shirt, the kind that made him look like sin carved into flesh.
She didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
She watched from behind the sheer curtain, hiding like the girl she used to be.
And then—
His gaze found her.
Through the window.
Across the distance.
One heartbeat to the next.
His eyes burned into hers.
She felt her soul flinch.
He didn't smile.
Didn't blink.
He just stood there, staring at her like she was the past he couldn't shake.
Behind her, Elior stepped into the room.
"Lydia?"
She turned, startled. His gaze followed hers, then shifted to the window.
"Who is that?" he asked quietly.
She opened her mouth.
Closed it again.
Max was still standing there. Still looking.
And for the first time in twelve months, the wound in her chest began to throb again.
Because the boy she had loved in silence...
The one who left without looking back...
Had finally come home.