Love in the rain

Eleanor positioned herself by the window, observing the storm as it approached the city. The rain lashed against the glass, reflecting the chaos within her heart. She exhaled softly, drawing shapes in the mist created by her breath. It had been a year since she last encountered him—Noah, the man who had captured her heart on a night reminiscent of this one.

The recollection remained clear in her mind. A power failure at the library had left her isolated in the faint illumination of emergency lights. As she struggled to locate her phone, he had appeared beside her, his warm laughter alleviating her annoyance.

"Are you searching for this?" he had inquired, holding up her misplaced scarf.

She had chuckled, accepting the situation with a thankful smile. Their discussion had initially centered around literature but quickly evolved into a more profound exchange—shared aspirations, tales from their youth, and unvoiced truths conveyed through anxious glances.

That evening, they strolled together under an umbrella, the rain forming an intimate cocoon for just the two of them. It marked the onset of something exquisite, something that seemed destined. However, destiny had also shown its harsh side.

Noah had been offered a position in Paris, an opportunity too enticing to decline. They had vowed to maintain their connection, yet time gradually eroded their bond. Initially, the messages became less regular, followed by a decline in phone calls, until silence took the place of their once-vibrant conversations.

Eleanor dismissed the memories, resolutely turning her thoughts away from him. There was no benefit in dwelling on the past. She had moved forward—or at least she had led herself to believe that.

As she pivoted from the window, a sudden knock at the door caught her off guard.

Upon opening it, she found him standing there.

Noah. His dark curls were dampened by the rain, and his deep brown eyes reflected a blend of yearning and uncertainty. He appeared just as she remembered, yet there was an added intensity in his expression—an urgency, a sense of desperation.

"Hello," he murmured softly, his voice reminiscent of echoes from another time.
Eleanor took a deep breath. "Noah? What brings you here?"
He sighed, running his fingers through his damp hair. "I returned."
Her heart tightened. "Why?"
"Because I have come to a realization," he said, stepping closer. "Paris was beautiful, but it never felt like home. You are my home."

She looked at him, her emotions rising like turbulent waves. "You left, Noah. You stopped reaching out."

"I know," he admitted, his voice laden with regret. "I was scared. I thought that letting go would make things easier. But it didn’t. It was unbearable."

Tears filled her eyes. "You broke my heart."

"I am aware," he whispered. "And I loathe myself for it. But, Eleanor, I love you. I have always loved you."

The rain outside shifted to a gentle drizzle, as if the world itself was holding its breath in anticipation.
Eleanor's mind urged her to walk away, to shield herself from further pain. Yet her heart—the foolish, yearning organ—was already moving toward him.

"You cannot simply appear and expect my forgiveness," she stated, though her voice trembled.

"I don’t," he interjected swiftly. "I don’t expect anything. I just needed you to understand that my love for you remains. I have never stopped thinking of you. And if you will accept me, I will dedicate every day to proving that I am here to stay this time."

Eleanor scrutinized his expression for any signs of deceit or doubt—but found none. Only unfiltered, genuine love.

She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. Then, with deliberate slowness, she reached out, taking his cold, rain-drenched hand in her own.

"Alright," she whispered.

A slow, hopeful smile illuminated Noah’s face as he enveloped her in his arms, holding her as if he would never release her again.

Outside, the rain continued to descend, but this time, it felt like a vow.