The drive to Willow Creek Estate took nearly two hours, but it felt much longer.
Gray clouds drifted lazily across the summer sky, casting moving shadows over endless fields of wildflowers. Every few miles, Rowan considered turning the car around.
No one would blame him if he suddenly became “too busy.”
No one except himself.
His phone buzzed on the passenger seat.
CALLAN
He answered through the car speakers.
“Tell me you’re not backing out.”
Rowan laughed quietly.
“You know me too well.”
“I’ve known you since we were sixteen.”
“Exactly.”
“Then get here. My wife baked enough desserts to feed an army, and if you don’t show up, she’ll make me eat them all.”
“I don’t see the problem.”
“You’ve clearly forgotten how dangerous her cinnamon pie is.”
Rowan smiled for the first time all morning.
“I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
“Drive safely.”
“You too.”
The call ended.
For a brief moment, everything felt normal again.
Willow Creek Estate looked like something from an old painting.
Rolling green hills surrounded a beautifully restored stone manor.
Children chased bubbles across the lawn while soft jazz floated through hidden speakers beneath ancient oak trees.
White tables decorated with fresh lavender filled the garden.
Guests laughed as waiters carried trays of sparkling lemonade and fresh pastries.
It was impossible not to admire the beauty surrounding him.
Yet Rowan barely noticed.
His stomach had become a knot.
He parked beneath a maple tree and remained inside the car for another minute.
One deep breath.
Then another.
“You can do this,” he whispered.
It sounded more like a question than encouragement.
Before he reached the entrance, Callan spotted him.
“There he is!”
Within seconds, Rowan found himself wrapped in the kind of bear hug only lifelong friends could give.
“You actually came.”
“I said I would.”
“Yeah, but you’ve been acting strange lately.”
Rowan forced a smile.
“Work.”
“Still making excuses.”
“I learned from the best.”
Callan laughed.
“Come on. Everyone’s been asking where you are.”
As they walked toward the garden, Rowan felt dozens of familiar faces greeting him.
Old classmates.
Former neighbors.
College friends.
Parents with children who had grown taller than he remembered.
Life had quietly moved forward while everyone became older.
Then he saw her.
Celine stood beside a long table arranging flowers into crystal vases.
She wore a simple pale-blue dress that moved gently with the breeze.
Her hair had grown slightly longer since Rowan had last seen her.
She looked up.
Their eyes met.
She smiled warmly.
“There you are.”
Her voice carried the same kindness it always had.
“I was beginning to think you’d forgotten us.”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
She stepped forward and hugged him.
A brief, friendly embrace.
Nothing unusual.
Yet Rowan felt the familiar ache rise inside his chest.
Not because of the hug.
Because lavender.
She smelled faintly of lavender.
Marianne—
No.
Don’t.
He stopped the thought before it finished.
“Rowan?”
Celine tilted her head.
“You okay?”
He blinked.
“Sorry.”
“You disappeared for a second.”
“I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
“Just a long drive.”
She studied him for only a moment before smiling again.
“Well, today you’re not allowed to think about work.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Good.”
She returned to decorating the tables.
Rowan quickly looked elsewhere.
The afternoon passed pleasantly.
Guests shared stories from Callan and Celine’s wedding.
Someone projected old photographs onto a large outdoor screen.
Laughter erupted every few minutes.
Callan looked impossibly happy.
Watching his best friend surrounded by love should have filled Rowan with peace.
Instead, memories kept interrupting.
A little girl ran past holding balloons.
Marianne had loved balloons.
Someone played an old folk song.
It had been her favorite.
Another guest laughed exactly the way she once had.
Grief never arrived through dramatic entrances.
It slipped quietly into ordinary moments.
Later, everyone gathered beneath a canopy for lunch.
Rowan found a seat near the edge of the table.
Safer there.
Less conversation.
Less attention.
Across from him sat Celine.
He tried to focus on his plate.
Roasted vegetables.
Fresh bread.
Herb chicken.
Anything except looking up.
Someone told a joke.
The entire table laughed.
Without thinking, Rowan lifted his eyes.
Celine was laughing too.
For one impossible heartbeat…
Another face overlapped hers inside his memory.
His younger sister laughing at their mother’s birthday.
Flour covering her nose while she baked bread.
The exact same sparkle.
The exact same warmth.
His eyes remained fixed too long.
He realized it only after the laughter faded.
Celine had noticed.
She wasn’t smiling anymore.
She simply looked at him with quiet curiosity.
Rowan immediately lowered his gaze.
His appetite disappeared.
After lunch, guests wandered through the gardens.
Some played lawn games.
Others took family photographs beneath blooming roses.
Rowan escaped toward a small pond hidden behind rows of willow trees.
Finally…
Silence.
Dragonflies skimmed across the water.
A pair of ducks drifted lazily near the shore.
He sat alone on an old wooden bench.
Maybe he could stay here until evening.
Maybe—
“Mind if I join you?”
His heart nearly stopped.
Celine stood a few feet away.
Holding two cups of coffee.
“I thought you might want one.”
He nodded.
“Thanks.”
She handed him a cup before sitting beside him.
Neither spoke.
The quiet wasn’t uncomfortable.
Birds filled the silence instead.
After nearly a minute, Celine smiled softly.
“You always come looking for peaceful places.”
“I guess I do.”
“So did someone I loved.”
Rowan looked at her.
“My grandmother,” she explained.
“Whenever life became too noisy, she’d sit beside water.”
He nodded.
“Sounds wise.”
“She usually was.”
Another pause.
Then—
“Can I ask you something?”
His stomach tightened.
“Of course.”
“Have I done something to upset you?”
He frowned.
“What?”
“You’ve seemed… distant.”
“I haven’t meant to.”
“I know.”
She stirred her coffee slowly.
“But sometimes I catch you looking at me.”
His pulse raced.
“And then you immediately look away.”
The world suddenly felt much quieter.
“I…”
He searched desperately for words.
None came.
“I’ve wondered for a long time why.”
She wasn’t angry.
She wasn’t accusing him.
She sounded genuinely concerned.
“I hope I haven’t reminded you of someone who hurt you.”
Rowan’s fingers tightened around the coffee cup.
His hands trembled slightly.
“No.”
Her eyes remained gentle.
“Then what is it?”
He wanted to answer.
He truly did.
But how could anyone explain something that strange?
He lowered his eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For making you uncomfortable.”
“You haven’t.”
“I probably have.”
“You haven’t.”
She said it with such certainty that Rowan finally looked back up.
For several long seconds, neither of them spoke.
Then Celine quietly said something that made every muscle in his body freeze.
“I think…”
she whispered,
“…you’re not really looking at me.”
His heartbeat echoed inside his ears.
“What do you mean?”
“I think…”
she said carefully,
“…you’re remembering someone else.”
Rowan stared at her in complete disbelief.
He couldn’t breathe.
How…
How could she possibly know?
Celine offered a small, understanding smile.
“I don’t know who.”
She looked toward the pond.
“But whoever they were…”
“They must have meant a great deal to you.”
A lump formed in Rowan’s throat.
He opened his mouth.
No words came.
For years he had hidden his grief from everyone.
Yet somehow…
Without him saying a single sentence…
She had seen straight through it.
And for the first time in a very long time…
He wondered if telling the truth might hurt less than carrying it alone.
Disclaimer : This content may be created by AI for entertainment purposes. Any resemblance to real persons, events, or places is coincidental.
