The Love From Vengeance

400: BUILDING BRIDGES

ARIEL’S POV

“In the quiet stillness of dawn, as the first rays of sunlight gently kissed the world awake, I stood by the bedside of the man I loved. His once–vibrant eyes, now clouded with confusion, gazed past me as if I were a stranger in a familiar guise. The pain that gripped my heart was like a relentless tide, pulling me into the depths of despair.

I remembered the first time our eyes met and how his smile had ignited a spark in my soul, setting ablaze a love that I thought would transcend time itself. We had shared moments that were both terrible and beautiful, forged in the crucible of life’s trials and triumphs. Our laughter had echoed through the halls of our shared memories, and our tears had mingled in the quiet darkness of our sorrows.

But now, as I looked into his eyes and saw only emptiness staring back at me, it was as if a dagger had pierced my heart, leaving me breathless with a pain that words could not describe. How could he fail to recognize me, the one who had consistently stood by his side, the one who had held his hand during the darkest of nights and whispered words of comfort during the day?

I knew that the battle ahead would be long and arduous, fraught with uncertainty and fear. But I also knew that I would not falter–that I would stand by his side and fight for him with every fiber of my being. For our love was a flame that had weathered storms and blazed brightly in the face of adversity, and I was determined to see it burn once more with the intensity of a thousand suns.

As I combed through the fragments of our shared past, piecing together the moments that had defined us as a couple, I felt a glimmer of hope ignite within me. Perhaps the key to unlocking the memories he had lost lay deep within the recesses of his mind. Perhaps, with patience and perseverance, I could help him rediscover the love that had once bound us together in an unbreakable bond.

And SO,

as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, I stood by his side like a steadfast sentinel, guiding him through the labyrinth of his forgotten memories with a steady hand and a heart filled with unwavering devotion. I showed him photographs of our past, played his songs that had once been the soundtrack to our lives, and recounted stories of our adventures with a tenderness that bordered on reverence.

Slowly but surely, like pieces of a shattered mirror being painstakingly reassembled, his memories began to resurface. He remembered the way we had danced in the rain on that fateful summer night, the taste of the first meal we had cooked together in our tiny apartment, and the sound of our laughter ringing through the hushed stillness of a moonlit

beach.

And as he looked into my eyes with a newfound recognition, a spark of joy flickering in the depths of his gaze, I knew that our love had weathered yet another storm and emerged stronger for it. For in the crucible of loss and rediscovery, we had found a love that was not bound by memory or time but by the unbreakable bond of two souls intertwined in a dance as old as the stars themselves..

And so, as we stood on the threshold of a new beginning, hand in hand and heart in heart, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together with courage and grace. For our love was a flame that had been tested by fire and emerged unscathed, a beacon of hope in the darkest of nights, an indication of the enduring power of love that transcends all boundaries and conquers all fears.”

Yup, I was done reading this article I found online. Just doing a little research, and I saw this written by a lady concerning her love story. The same issue with mine, but the difference here was that these two were in love at the very start, and everything about them was

beautiful.

As for my relationship with Luke? It wasn’t like that. This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

Oh right. By the way, I was at the park, sitting down and waiting for Andre to arrive. He had told me that we should come and meet here. He didn’t tell me what he wanted to discuss with me, so I was kind of curious.

Lost in thoughts about the article I had just read, I was suddenly jolted back to reality by the sound of a ball whizzing through the air. Before I could react, it struck me squarely in the face, causing me to let out a surprised yelp.

Rubbing my nose, I looked up to see a little boy standing a few feet away,

alarm.

“I’m so sorry!” He apologized.

his eyes wide with

“It’s okay; don’t worry about it,” I reassured him with a smile, trying to mask the slight sting of pain. Accidents happened, and I could tell he hadn’t meant to hit me.

However, before I could dismiss the incident, an elderly lady who had been sitting nearby suddenly stood up,

her face contorted in anger

“You reckless child! Look what you’ve done!” she scolded, her voice loud and grating.

I felt a twinge of irritation at her harsh tone. “It’s fine, really. It was just an accident,” I said, hoping to defuse the situation.

But the lady seemed undeterred, her voice rising even louder as she continued to berate the

poor boy. Fed up with her unnecessary yelling, I stood up from the bench and approached her, my patience wearing thin.

“Excuse me, but there’s no need to shout at him like that. It was just a harmless accident,” I said firmly, my tone leaving no room for argument.

The lady turned her glare towards me, her lips pursed in disapproval. “Mind your own business, young lady.”

I bristled at her condescending attitude. “I am minding my own business. “And my business. is telling you to stop yelling at this child.”

With one last glare, the lady huffed and turned away, muttering under her breath as she stomped off in a huff. I watched her go, shaking my head in disbelief at her unnecessary

outburst.

Turning back to the little boy, I offered him a reassuring smile. “Are you okay?” I asked, squatting down to his level.

He nodded, his eyes wide with relief. “Yeah, I’m sorry again,” he mumbled, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“It’s alright; accidents happen,” I said gently, ruffling his hair affectionately. “What’s your name?”

The boy brightened up at the question. “My name’s Luke,” he replied, a hint of pride in his

voice.

I couldn’t help but laugh at the coincidence. “Luke, huh? That’s a nice name,” I said, amused by the irony of the situation.

He grinned at me. “Thanks!”

Leaning in closer, I whispered conspiratorially, “You know, my husband’s name is Luke, too.

The boy’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really?” he exclaimed, clearly impressed.

“Yep, really,” I confirmed with a smile. “And you’re just as cute and handsome as he is.

The boy beamed at the compliment. “Thank you!”

“You don’t have to thank me, alright?” My smile lingered on my face.

Just then, the other children called out to him, beckoning him to join their game.

“Go on, go ahead and join them,” I told him.

the ball already forgotten.

And right after that, I felt someone tapping me on the shoulder.