Spring Without Return

After the Ferguson family went bankrupt, I gave up everything I had and followed Ethan Ferguson to Stormbay.

Five years later, he had fought his way back into the top three on the Forbes rich list. He rebuilt the empire everyone believed he had lost for good. He never mentioned marriage, no matter how much we had been through together.

I did not understand the reason until the night before Memorial Day.

I woke after midnight and saw Ethan standing alone on the terrace of our beachfront house. The cold ocean wind swept through the darkness while he lit three white candles one by one. Their flames flickered softly against the night.

He faced the distant horizon across the sea and lowered his voice.

“Mom, Dad… I’m sorry I couldn’t come see you again this year.”

He paused, and his expression softened.

“However, please keep watching over Vivi. Keep her healthy… and bless the two of us with a long, happy life together.”

Warmth spread through my chest as I listened.

My health had never been good, and every year near Memorial Day, Ethan refused to let me exhaust myself with the long trip home. He always went alone to visit his parents’ graves while I stayed behind in Stormbay.

This year, when I saw the homesickness in his eyes, I decided to surprise him. I wanted to make the trip in his place.

I never expected my entire world to collapse the moment I arrived at the cemetery.

Ethan’s name was carved into the headstone.

Beside it was the name of another woman.

Olivia Ferguson.

My gaze drifted lower.

A framed family photograph sat at the foot of the headstone. Its edges had curled from the ocean wind.

In the picture, Ethan held a little blond-haired boy in his arms. The child looked no older than three.

Olivia stood beside him, smiling softly at the camera.

A sharp pain cut through my chest.

Only then did I understand the truth.

The “Vivi” Ethan prayed for was never Vivian.

It had been Olivia all along.

I stood there, staring blankly at the gravestone, when the old cemetery caretaker walked over and spoke to me.

“Miss, what relation are you to the elderly couple from the Ferguson family? I do not think I have seen you here before.”

His simple question struck me like a knife to the chest.

Yeah. What was I?

The place beside Ethan Ferguson, the place that should have belonged to his wife, already had Olivia’s name carved into it. The letters were neat and permanent.

I stood under the sunlight, yet I felt like a rat that belonged in the shadows. I felt small and ashamed, like a person with no identity I could admit out loud.

I swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat and answered quietly, “Just a distant relative.”

The old man nodded.

“That makes sense. If you were close family, there is no way you would have missed the memorial ceremony Mr.