Golden leaves crunched beneath Emma’s boots as she walked through the quiet park. The crisp autumn air carried the scent of cinnamon from a nearby café, and the late afternoon sun bathed everything in a warm, golden glow.
She hadn’t been here in years.
Yet her feet had led her back, as if some invisible force had been guiding her to this very spot.
The bench.
It sat beneath the same towering oak tree, its wooden slats slightly worn but still familiar. This was where she had spent countless afternoons with him.
James.
Emma sighed, brushing a gloved hand over the smooth surface of the bench before sitting down. It felt strange, being here again. Strange how a place could hold so many memories, how it could make time fold in on itself.
She traced the initials carved into the wood—E + J.
They had made that mark one autumn afternoon years ago, laughing like they had all the time in the world. Back then, forever had seemed so simple.
But forever had slipped away.
She closed her eyes, letting the cool breeze wash over her. She should have never come back.
Just as she was about to stand, a voice stopped her.
“I was hoping I’d find you here.”
Emma’s breath caught.
She turned slowly.
And there he was.
James stood a few feet away, hands tucked into his coat pockets, looking at her like she was both a memory and a dream. His dark hair was slightly tousled from the wind, his deep brown eyes holding something unreadable.
She swallowed hard. “James.”
He smiled—soft, uncertain. “Emma.”
Silence stretched between them, filled with unspoken words, with years of what-ifs and almosts.
James took a slow step closer. “I still come here, you know.”
Emma’s fingers curled against the bench. “You do?”
He nodded, glancing at the initials on the wood. “Some places just… don’t stop meaning something.”
Her heart ached. “I thought you moved away.”
“I did,” he said. “But I came back.”
She frowned. “Why?”
James hesitated for just a second before exhaling. “Because I never stopped hoping I’d see you again.”
Emma’s chest tightened.
She had spent years convincing herself that they had been just a chapter. That love like theirs didn’t get second chances.
But sitting here, with golden leaves falling around them and the sun casting long shadows on the ground, she realized—
Maybe some stories weren’t meant to end.
Maybe some loves find their way back.
James sat beside her, close but not touching, like he was waiting.
Emma looked at him, at the boy who had once been her future.
And with a small, hopeful smile, she whispered, “Tell me everything.”
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