It was a rainy afternoon—quiet, soft, almost poetic.
Liora had been reorganizing the attic, claiming she needed a distraction from Elio's "love life crisis." Zayden was in the study when he heard her shriek.
"DAD! ELIO! COME UP HERE—NOW!"
Zayden ran up, Elio close behind. The attic smelled of dust and memories, sunlight slanting in through the narrow window. And in the corner, beside a box labeled Z+E, Liora was sitting cross-legged on the wooden floor, her eyes red but smiling.
Inside the box were photos. Hundreds of them.
Every one of them—moments frozen in time.
Zayden dropped to his knees, his fingers trembling as he picked up a photograph.
"Us at the lake house," he whispered. "She'd just learned how to fish. We burned the food that night."
Another photo—Elena riding a hot air balloon, her laughter caught mid-air, wild hair dancing against the sky.
Another—Zayden and Elena stargazing on their roof, a blanket over their heads, chocolate mugs beside them.
Elio pulled out a folded note—written in Elena's handwriting.
---
Elena's Letter – The Bucket List Box
To my babies,
If you're reading this... it means you're old enough to know what love looks like.
This is what love looked like for us.
It wasn't always easy. It wasn't always perfect. But we chased sunsets, danced in kitchens, got lost in cities, and found our way back to each other again and again.
We made a bucket list after I found out. I told your dad I wanted to live like I was burning—bright, fast, full. He made sure I did.
So when you look at these pictures, don't cry. Laugh. Smile. Know that we lived.
And promise me one thing—when you fall in love... do it like we did.
With everything.
All my love,
Mom
---
Liora clutched the letter to her chest, tears spilling.
"I didn't know she rode a horse," she murmured, holding up a photo.
"She hated it," Zayden chuckled hoarsely, his voice cracking. "But she said, 'If I'm going, I'm going with stories.'"
Elio picked up a photo of them dancing in the rain, Zayden holding her close, both soaked but smiling like the world couldn't touch them.
"Was it worth it, Dad?" Elio asked, voice soft.
Zayden looked at the pictures. At Elena's face. At their love.
He nodded.
"Every second."
Later that night, the three of them sat by the fire, the photo box open in front of them. They passed the pictures around like sacred treasures, and for the first time in a long time...
Zayden didn't feel quite so alone.
Because Elena had never truly left.
She had only hidden herself in memories.
In smiles.
In skies.
In them.