That night had left Elena with more than memories it had left her with Jamie.

The village never forgave her for being unmarried. She bore their stares and gossip with quiet dignity, her life small but honest. Until one late afternoon, the sound of tires on gravel broke the calm. A silver Bentley stopped in front of her modest house.

Curtains fluttered across the neighborhood. Children paused their games.

A tall man stepped out. His suit was immaculate, his expression uncertain. When his eyes met Elena’s, time seemed to stop.

“Elena?” His voice was soft, almost disbelieving.

She froze. It was him the man from that night.