I didn’t move. The woman’s trembling gaze locked with mine, and though I was certain we had never met, something about her eyes made my chest tighten.
— I… I don’t understand, — I stammered.
She walked toward me slowly, as if approaching a ghost.
— Your name… is Adam, isn’t it?
— Yes… How do you know that?
She glanced at her daughter, then turned back to me. Her voice was barely above a whisper.
— Because I loved you. Nineteen years ago.
I shook my head in disbelief.
— I’ve never seen you before in my life.
She gave a sad smile.
— We met once. Just once. I was studying abroad in Florence. It was a brief night — one filled with laughter, wine, and… something deeper. We promised to keep in touch, but I lost your number when my phone was stolen the next day. I tried to find you… for years. But you disappeared.
My mind reeled. Florence. A summer. A terrace bar. Music playing. A girl in a red scarf…
Suddenly, a blurry memory resurfaced. Her.
— You had a sketchbook… you drew me on a napkin, — I whispered.
She nodded, her tears now falling freely.
— I kept your photo. You gave it to me before we said goodbye.
My knees felt weak. I stepped inside without realizing it.
— But… this little girl, she’s not mine, is she?
She smiled through her tears and shook her head.
— No. She’s my daughter. But when she was five, she found the photo in my wallet and started calling you “the man with kind eyes.” I never had the heart to throw it away. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.
I looked at the little girl. She was beaming, unaware of the whirlwind unfolding around her.
— Are you gonna stay for lunch? — she asked.
I laughed, half in shock.
— I think I might, — I said.
And just like that, what started as a quiet escape by the sea turned into something far more unexpected — a door to a forgotten past, and maybe… just maybe… the beginning of a new story.