The rain had returned, just like it did three years ago—the day he left.
Elara sat by the window, her fingers tracing the rim of a chipped porcelain cup. Cold tea. Forgotten. Like everything else since the day Leo vanished from her life.
She could still remember the way his eyes looked that morning—nervous, hopeful, and already a little distant. He was holding a weathered envelope, the corners soft from being handled too much.
"I know you hate letters," he had smiled, handing it to her. "But... if you ever miss me, just open this, okay?"
She didn't take it then. Not really. She held it the way one holds a memory they're afraid to break.
"Just stay," she had whispered. "I don't care about your dreams or the world out there. I care about you."
Leo leaned in and kissed her forehead, gently placing the letter in her hands.
"One day, you'll understand. I'll be back before you know it."
But he never came back.
A month passed. Then came the call. The words. "We're sorry… his car was found off the side of the cliff."
They said it was quick. That he felt no pain.
But what did they know?
He hadn't even been buried. There was no body—just his watch, cracked and cold.
Elara stopped living the day Leo died. She stopped speaking to the world. Stopped writing. Stopped laughing.
But she never threw the letter away.
She kept it sealed, untouched, hidden in the drawer like a wound she refused to look at. She wasn't ready—not to face his goodbye, not to hear his love in ink.
Years passed. Her friends moved on. She even accepted a proposal out of guilt, not love. The wedding was today.
But the rain brought something with it—a memory, a heartbeat, a whisper.
Her fingers moved before her mind did. She opened the drawer. Her heart pounded. The seal broke with a sound too loud for the silence of the room.
Inside was his messy handwriting, the one she used to tease him about.
> Elara,
If you're reading this, I might not have had the courage to come back. But I need you to know—I loved you more than I ever showed.
If you miss me... if you still want me, come back to where we began.
I'll be waiting at 8:00 p.m.
Even if I'm just a memory, I'll wait for you there.
Her breath caught.
The tears came like a flood.
She ran—barefoot, through the rain, through streets blurred by memory and grief—toward the old train station. It was where they first met. Where they used to say goodbye.
And he was there.
Standing under the flickering lamp. Soaked in rain, hands in his coat pocket, smiling like he always did.
"Leo?" she gasped.
He stepped forward, eyes hollow with sadness.
"Why didn't you listen to me?" he whispered.
Her feet froze. She reached out—but her hand passed through him.
Air. Mist. A memory.
He looked at her one last time, pain etched across his fading face.
"I waited… I waited so long..."
And then, he was gone.
The station was empty.
Only the rain remained.
Elara sank to the ground, letter clutched to her chest, screaming into the silence that would never answer back.
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