The man held her as the rain poured around them.
“I don’t want to forget you again,” she whispered.
He pressed his forehead to hers. “Then don’t.”
The storm raged, thunder shaking the ground beneath their feet. Lightning split the sky in jagged silver lines, illuminating their desperate embrace for fleeting moments before darkness swallowed them whole.
And then—silence.
He opened his eyes to empty air.
She was gone.
Again.
He clenched his jaw, stepping back into the downpour. Water streamed down his face, indistinguishable from tears. His fingers still tingled where her skin had been warm against his palms just moments before.
Somewhere, in this endless loop of memory and loss, there had to be a way to keep her tethered to this reality. A crack in the pattern he could exploit.
This time, he would find it.
This time would be different.
It had to be.
