When Hannah whispered, “I remember,” something shifted in Jason’s chest.
He had been watching her carefully, trying to understand the look on her face. Was it shock or recognition, the way her breath had caught when their eyes met.
Then their gazes locked.
And the memory came back.
Not slowly.
All at once.
The wind roared in his ears again, strong enough to steal the breath from his lungs. The beach stretched out beneath a heavy gray sky, waves crashing against the dark rocks below.
She stood in front of him in the blue dress, the ribbon in her hair slipping loose as the wind pulled at it.
Hannah.
Not Hannah.
But her.
His chest tightened painfully.
Jason could feel the moment as if he were standing there again. The urgency. The fear that time was running out.
He could hear his own voice, close to her ear.
“I’ll find you.”
The words came from somewhere deep inside him, desperate and certain at the same time.
“I’ll find you in every life after this one.”
The memory shifted.
Another place.
Another time.
A wide, elegant house with tall windows and polished floors. He stood in a hallway that smelled faintly of wood smoke and polished brass.
Her father stood across from him.
The man’s expression was cold.
Jason could feel the humiliation burning in his chest even now.
Not good enough.
He heard the words again as clearly as if they had just been spoken.
Not from the wrong family.
Not the right kind of future.
Not worthy of her.
Jason remembered the anger that had surged through him then, the instinct to argue, to fight for her.
But her father hadn’t argued.
He had decided.
Jason saw himself standing outside the gates of the estate with a single bag in his hand, the carriage waiting to take him away.
Sent to the country house.
A polite exile.
Far enough away that the problem would disappear.
The next memory hurt.
He stood across a crowded room years later.
Music drifted through the air.
She was there.
But she wasn’t his.
Her hand rested on another man’s arm.
A wedding ring caught the light as she turned slightly.
Jason felt the same sharp ache he had felt then. A crushing realization that time had moved on without him.
He had only ever seen her again from a distance.
Across gardens.
Across rooms full of people.
He remembered how carefully she avoided looking at him.
How deliberately she kept space between them.
But sometimes—
Just sometimes—
He would catch a glance.
A quick look in his direction before she turned away.
And in those brief moments he had known.
She remembered too.
She had loved him.
Even while trying not to.
The memories crashed back into the present.
Jason blinked hard, the restaurant snapping into focus around him.
Hannah sat across from him, her hand still in his.
Her eyes searched his face with the same stunned understanding.
Jason exhaled slowly, his chest tight with emotions that felt far older than the moment.
“I remember too,” he said quietly.
The End
Leave a Reply