The last nights had been different for Adam. He was used to waking up from nightmares of his previous lover's death, hearing the echo of her screams inside him, seeing his weak hands unable to save her. But since Layla entered his life, the dreams began to intertwine; her face would merge with that of the departed… making him feel a doubled fear, the fear of losing her too.
One night, heavy rain poured down, and he decided to go to the flower shop despite the late hour. When he arrived, he found Layla closing the doors, raindrops sliding down the window behind her. She smiled as soon as she saw him, as if his presence was exactly what she needed in that moment.
— "Why did you come out in this weather?" she asked, holding the door.
— "I was afraid you'd be alone… I don't like seeing you like that."
He entered and helped her arrange the last bouquets. His voice was low as he said:
— "Layla… do you ever think you might disappear from me?"
She looked at him, surprised:
— "Why would you say that?"
— "Because I've lost before, and I cannot bear the thought of losing again."
She moved closer, touched his trembling hand, and said in a hoarse voice:
— "Adam, I'm not her… I am here now. Don't let the past steal me from you."
His heart trembled, and his eyes filled with tears he hadn't shed in a long time. For the first time, he allowed her to touch that deep wound inside him.
When they walked together under the rain, he didn't care about getting wet. He walked beside her, pushing her wheelchair along the soaked path. In that moment, he no longer saw the chair as a restraint, but as a bridge leading him to live again.