The forest was quieter now.
Where once the branches whispered stories of longing and first touches, now they hung low with memory. The breeze barely stirred, as if holding its breath for what came next. I stood beside the trail we used to run through barefoot, wild laughter echoing behind us like a chasing wind. Now, the silence filled the space between us. And still—she was beside me.
Amara.
Not the girl from my dreams, not the girl made of memory, but the one here and now. Real, fragile, radiant. And hurting.
She touched the bark of the old ash tree. "Do you remember when we carved our names into this?"
I nodded, the memory rising like a forgotten song. "You told me I was too scared to press hard enough."
She smiled softly, her fingers tracing the faded initials—A & L, bound in a crooked heart. "You were. But you did it anyway."
"We were brave then."
"We were us then," she whispered.
There was no bitterness in her voice, only the ache of something once bright now dimmed by time and choices.
I sat at the foot of the tree, knees pulled to my chest, watching her. "What happened to us?"
She didn't answer right away. Instead, she pulled a wild daisy from the underbrush and tucked it behind her ear, just like she used to. Her eyes shimmered—not with magic, but with truth.
"We grew apart because we were afraid," she said. "Of how much we needed each other. Of how deep we were falling. I think… I think we thought love was supposed to be easy."
I swallowed. "It's not."
"No," she said, sitting beside me. "It's messy. It's silent goodbyes and letters unsent. It's watching you leave and hoping you'll turn around."
"I wanted to," I breathed. "So many times."
She looked at me. "Why didn't you?"
"Because I thought you'd stopped waiting."
Amara reached over and laced her fingers with mine. "I never stopped. I just… forgot how to hope."
I looked down at our hands. The way they fit, the way they remembered. I wanted to stay in that moment forever. Just like this.
"We don't have to pretend anymore," I said quietly. "We don't have to be what we were. We can be… something new."
She tilted her head toward the canopy. "Do you think the forest remembers the way we were?"
I looked up too. Sunlight dappled the leaves like a broken lullaby.
"It remembers everything."
A silence settled again, but this one didn't hurt. It wrapped around us like a soft blanket, comforting rather than cold.
"I used to be scared of losing you," I confessed. "So scared that I tried to make you leave first. I thought if I could make the pain mine, at least I could control it."
"I know," she said. "I felt it every time you pulled away."
"I thought letting go would hurt less than holding on."
Amara leaned her head on my shoulder. "It doesn't."
There were no grand gestures. No fireworks or enchanted spells. Just the sound of her breath, soft against my side, and the slow return of the person I thought I'd lost.
After a while, she stood and offered her hand to me. "Come with me."
I took it without hesitation.
She led me past the glade, past the stone where we made wishes with closed eyes and open hearts. We came to the clearing where the firelight tree still stood, its red leaves rustling like a lullaby. Beneath it, the grass had grown back, soft and wild.
"I came here when I missed you most," she said. "I'd close my eyes and talk to the wind. Pretend it was your voice answering back."
I blinked against the sudden rush of tears.
"I did the same," I murmured. "Only I imagined your laughter in the leaves."
She turned to face me fully now. "Then let's not imagine anymore."
And then she kissed me.
It wasn't like the first kiss. It wasn't filled with butterflies or trembling hands. It was firm, steady, like roots growing into earth. Like a promise.
"I'm still scared," I said when we pulled apart.
She touched her forehead to mine. "Me too. But I'd rather be scared with you than safe without you."
A wind swept through the clearing, catching her hair and sending petals dancing through the air like memories reborn. The forest didn't just remember the way we were—it welcomed the way we could be.
We sat together until the moon replaced the sun, wrapped in each other's warmth and quiet. Not perfect. Not fixed. But found.
Somewhere in the shadows, the old magic stirred. Not the dangerous kind. Not the kind that ripped hearts open. But the quiet kind. The kind that bloomed where tears once fell.
The kind that whispered, Love never really leaves. It just waits.