LOVE ME IN ANOTHER LIFE

The sky filled with its brightness, it was just the breaking of the day. Elara and Andrian can't stop talking about their love lives.

Elara Bennett stood barefoot before her easel, brush poised midair, as the sound of Adrian’s laughter drifted from behind her.

“Are you ever going to finish that piece?” he teased, leaning against the doorframe with that easy charm that always seemed to undo her. His hair, still damp from the shower, fell over his forehead in messy waves.

He wore his travel jacket — the same one she hated because it reminded her he was leaving again.

“I will,” she replied, not looking at him. “Maybe when you stop moving around long enough to stay in one place.”

He chuckled, stepping closer. “You know I can’t help it. This deal is important, Elara. If it goes through, I could finally open that firm in London.”

She lowered her brush, turning to face him. “And if something happens out there? What if you don’t come back?”

She had felt it. Adrian's disappearance.

The words came out softer than she meant them to — a tremor of fear she’d tried to hide all week.

Adrian’s smile faded. “Hey,” he murmured, closing the space between them. “Nothing’s going to happen. It’s a two-week trip, that’s all. I’ll be back before you finish that painting.”

She frowned. “You’ve been saying that for the last three projects.”

“And I always come back,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You just like worrying about me. Admit it.”

“I’d rather worry than lose you,” she whispered.

He kissed her then — slow and sure, like he was sealing a vow with every breath.

" You are worried about me." " This isn't my first trip, I have be traveling for years, and had returned safely. This shouldn't be different."

" Adrian's it is. " She replied him. " I am missing you already." She replied him

When he pulled away, he reached into his pocket and drew out a small silver locket. “Then keep this,” he said, placing it gently in her palm.”

Elara’s throat tightened. “Adrian…”

“Open it.”

Inside was a tiny photo — a candid shot he’d taken of the two of them by the sea, her laughter caught mid-breath, his arm around her. On the other side was a small inscription: ‘Wherever I go, I find my way back to you.’

Her eyes stung. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me for it.”

“I do,” she admitted softly, tracing the edge of the locket. “I really do.”

He smiled and kissed her forehead. “Then that’s all I’ll need to come home.”

That night, they had dinner by candlelight. Adrian cooked — badly — but insisted it was part of the “romantic experience.” The pasta was overcooked, the sauce too thick, but Elara laughed anyway, watching him move around the kitchen like he was trying to memorize every second before he left.

Afterward, they danced in the living