Prologue

We promised to find each other again. But what if, after all these years, we're not the same people worth finding?

The rain was relentless. Cold, heavy, merciless—just like his silence.

Violet Harrington stood beneath the dim glow of a streetlight, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, her breath unsteady. The world around them was blurred with rain, but all she could see was him. Ethan Sinclair.

The man who had broken her heart.

He stood a few feet away, his dark coat drenched, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. His eyes, dark and intense, met hers without a word. In that charged silence, the world around them ceased to exist, leaving only the raw, aching truth of what had just unfolded. His gaze flickered toward her, then away, as if he couldn't bear to look at her for too long.

Coward.

"You never listened," Violet said, her voice trembling as much from the cold as from the pain that had been building for months. "You never let me in—not really."

Ethan's jaw tensed, and for a moment, he looked as if he wanted to speak. But the storm swallowed his words, leaving only the sound of the rain.

"Say something, Ethan!" she snapped, her frustration cracking through the pain.

"Anything. Yell at me, fight with me—just don't stand there like none of this matters!"

A muscle in his jaw twitched. He exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he finally met her gaze. His eyes were filled with something raw. Something like regret.

When he finally did speak, it was with a quiet intensity that had once drawn her in: "I did love you, Violet. I still do. But sometimes, loving someone means knowing when you're hurting them."

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "Loving me means not breaking my heart, Ethan. I need to know that you're here with me—not somewhere else, somewhere safer."

The words tumbled out before she could stop them. "Don't walk away. Stay. Fix this. Fix us."

But he couldn't meet her gaze. His shoulders slumped as he stepped back, the wet pavement glistening under the streetlamp's weak light. "I'm sorry, Vi," he whispered, the words lost in the roar of the rain. There was no dramatic exit, no grand farewell—just that moment of silence that cut deeper than any scream.

Ethan's fingers twitched at his sides. For a brief moment, she thought—hoped—he might reach for her. That he might take back everything and tell her he was staying.

But instead, he just stared at her, his face unreadable, his eyes holding a thousand emotions but not a single word. Before he left, he looked at her as if he was trying to memorize every detail of her face.

In that agonizing heartbeat, as the rain soaked through her clothes and mingled with her tears, Violet realized that nothing would ever be the same. Ethan turned away without one more word. Without a proper goodbye. Without a promise that he'd return.

The cold air sliced through her chest like a blade.

She took a step forward. "Ethan—"

But he already left.

No goodbye. No explanation. Just the sound of his footsteps fading into the rain.

Violet stood frozen, watching Ethan disappearing into the dark maze of city streets, and with every step he took, he carried a part of her heart with him. In his wake, Violet was left with nothing but the echo of his absence and a memory of love that had turned to sorrow.

And just like that, Ethan Sinclair was gone.

The rain kept falling, and for the first time, Violet let it drown the tears she couldn't stop.

Standing alone under the stormy sky, as the rain continued its relentless descent, she couldn't help but wonder: was this the end of their story, or merely the beginning of the long road back to you?