Chapter 3

A Love Remembered

I walked into the dimly lit shop, the sound of a rusty bell ringing as the door swung shut behind me. The place looked abandoned, shelves were mostly empty, dust gathered on the few items that remained. The air smelled faintly of old wood and something stale. I didn’t know why I came in here; maybe it was just a need to escape, to be somewhere away from the chaos that had become my life.

I sat down at an old, broken table in the corner, its edges worn and chipped. The chair groaned under my weight as I leaned back, staring blankly at the wall in front of me. My mind wandered, still tangled up in the mess of emotions that had gripped me ever since I left Evelyn’s parents’ mansion.

Five good years, I thought bitterly. Five years of marriage, gone in the blink of an eye. How had we come to this? How had everything fallen apart so fast?

I tried to push the questions away, but they kept coming back, relentless, like a tide I couldn’t hold back. I thought of Evelyn, her smile, her laugh, the way she used to look at me like I was her whole world. She had loved me once. I was sure of it. But now… now she was gone, and I was left to pick up the pieces of a life I didn’t recognize anymore.

The memories came flooding back before I could stop them, pulling me under like a riptide. I let them wash over me, unable to resist.

It was back in New York City, during our university days. That was where it all began.

I could still remember the first time I saw her. It was a bright afternoon, the kind where the sun filters through the leaves, the lights on everything. I was running late to a lecture, sprinting across campus with my bag slung haphazardly over my shoulder, dodging other students as I went.

And then I saw her.

She was standing by the library steps, her long dark hair catching the sunlight, her eyes focused on a book she held in her hands. She looked so absorbed in whatever she was reading, completely unaware of the world around her. For a moment, I forgot I was running late. I forgot everything, really, except for her.

I slowed down, trying to think of something; anything, to say to her. But what could I say? I didn’t even know her, and yet, something about her had me captivated.

Just as I was about to walk over, she looked up, her eyes meeting mine. There was a spark of recognition, something that passed between us in that split second, though we had never met before. I don’t know what it was, maybe it was fate, maybe it was just coincidence, but I felt it.

She smiled at me then, a soft, shy smile that made my heart race.

I smiled back, and without thinking, I said the first thing that came to mind. “What are you reading?”

She tilted her head slightly, as if considering whether to answer, and then she held up the book. “Pride and Prejudice,” she said. Her voice was soft, musical, and for some reason, it made me feel like I’d known her forever.

“Ah, a classic,” I said, trying to sound casual, though my heart was rising. “Are you a fan of Mr. Darcy, then?”

She laughed, and the sound was like music to my ears. “I’m more of an Elizabeth Bennet fan, actually.”

I grinned. “A woman with good taste.”

That was how it all started. A conversation about a book, a shared smile, and before I knew it, we were spending hours together, talking, laughing, getting to know each other in that way that felt so effortless, so natural.

Evelyn was different from anyone I’d ever met. She was smart, fiercely independent, with a sense of humor that caught me off guard at times. She came from a wealthy family, that much was clear, but she never flaunted it. In fact, she seemed almost embarrassed by it, preferring to focus on her own accomplishments rather than her family’s money.

We spent nearly every day together after that. We would meet in between classes, grab coffee at the small café just off campus, or sometimes just walk around the city, talking about everything and nothing. With Evelyn, it didn’t matter what we were doing, it just felt right.

It wasn’t long before I fell in love with her.

I still remember the night I told her. We were walking through Central Park, the city lights twinkling in the distance, the air browns with the first hints of winter. She was wearing a scarf, her cheeks flushed from the cold, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

I stopped walking, taking her hand in mine. She looked up at me, her eyes questioning, and before I could second-guess myself, the words spilled out.

“I love you, Evelyn.”

She blinked, surprised, and for a moment, I was terrified that I’d said the wrong thing, that I’d ruined everything. But then her face softened, and she smiled that soft, shy smile that had captured me from the beginning.

“I love you too, Austin.”

Those four words changed everything. From that moment on, we were inseparable. We made plans for the future, talked about getting married, about building a life together. And eventually, that dream became a reality.

We got married in a small ceremony, just close friends and family. Her parents were there, of course, though they weren’t exactly thrilled about the match. They never said it outright, but I could feel their disapproval, lurking behind polite smiles and formal handshakes. They thought I wasn’t good enough for their daughter, that I could never provide the kind of life they wanted for her.

But Evelyn didn’t care. She stood by my side, defending me whenever her parents raised concerns, always reminding me that what we had was real, that we were in this together.

For five years, we built a life. It wasn’t always easy, we had our share of arguments, of ups and downs, but we loved each other. At least, I thought we did.

I shook my head, trying to shake off the memories, but they clung to me, refusing to let go. What had changed? How had things gone so wrong?

I couldn’t stop thinking about the last few months before she left. There had been tension, arguments about money, about our future. Evelyn had become distant, preoccupied with something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I tried to reach out, to understand what was going on with her, but she always brushed me off, insisting that everything was fine.

But everything wasn’t fine.

I could see it in her eyes, the way she avoided looking at me, the way she spent more and more time at her parents’ house. And then, one day, she is gone.

No explanation, no warning, just a phone call, telling me her parents wanted to see me.

And now here I am, I thought bitterly. Alone, with nothing but memories of a life that no longer existed.

I glanced around the shop, my eyes landing on a dusty mirror hanging crookedly on the wall. I barely recognized the man staring back at me. My face was pale, my eyes sunken from lack of sleep. I looked… defeated. Broken.

But I couldn’t stay like this. I couldn’t let them; let her, win.

I stood up, the chair scraping against the floor as I pushed it back. I had to find a way to move on, to rebuild. I couldn’t keep drowning in the past, no matter how much it hurt.

As I made my way to the door, I paused for a moment, looking back at the empty shop, the broken table where I had sat, lost in memories.

Five years, I thought again, shaking my head. Five years of marriage, gone just like that?

But as I stepped outside, back into the cold, rainy streets, I made a silent promise to myself. This wasn’t the end of my story.

Not yet.

The rain had slowed to a drizzle by the time I left the shop, the city streets glistening under the streetlights. I walked without any real destination, just letting my feet carry me wherever they wanted. My mind still raced with thoughts of Evelyn, of everything we had been through.

But as much as I wanted to hold on to the past, I knew I couldn’t. I had to start thinking about the future, about what came next.

I wasn’t sure where I would go, or what I would do, but one thing was clear: I couldn’t let this break me.

Evelyn’s parents might have torn us apart, but they wouldn’t destroy me. I would find a way to rise from this, to build something new.

And when I did, they would regret ever thinking they could write me off.

The city stretched out before me, vast and full of possibility. It wasn’t going to be easy, but I'm ready.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt a flicker of hope. It was faint, barely there, but it was enough to keep me moving forward.

One step at a time.