Life doesn't always give everyone a second chance. And those who receive it often fail to recognize its worth.
But Yim and Talotkan… they weren't just given a second chance by life....they were granted one by destiny itself.
After they left, the place fell silent again.
Where Talotkan had been sitting, a small white flower remained....belonging to the very plant she had named "Fate."
Before leaving home, Talotkan had plucked a single white bloom, intending to gift it to Yim.
But she didn't.
Instead, she left it there… on the bridge.
Because in that moment, Talotkan felt another presence.....someone else lingering in that space between silence and memory.
Yim sat behind her on the bike, the cool wind brushing past her cheeks, her mind lost in Talotkan's words.
The entire ride, Talotkan kept rambling....about everything and nothing.
Every little story, every ridiculous thought that popped into her head, she shared with Yim.
And Yim? She laughed. Laughed until her heart felt light again.
Talotkan kept glancing back, her mischievous grin lighting up the empty road, as if her chatter alone could bring life to the silence of the golden evening .
The lonely path echoed with their laughter and the hum of the engine.....like two old friends reunited after years apart.
They say trees know when their leaves will fall long before the wind does.
Perhaps Talotkan, too, knew what awaited her before she took her last breath.
Perhaps that's why she was racing against time.....to live, to love, to leave behind something worth remembering.
Days melted into weeks. Weeks into months.
And somehow, without realizing it, those visits to that serene spot became a habit.
If Talotkan wasn't at Yim's house, Yim was at Talotkan's grandmother's.
The bond grew stronger...so much so that Talotkan now got scolded by Yim like a child.
The grandmother's wise words, the laughter woven into the fabric of their daily lives.....it was as if someone had breathed life into lifeless dolls.
Time flowed unnoticed. Seasons changed, and so did the meaning of their togetherness.
What began as companionship had quietly shifted… into something deeper.
Yet neither of them realized it.
Was this still friendship? Or was it something more?
Neither Yim nor Talotkan had ever had a real friend before....so how could they tell where friendship ended and love began?
But when you start reading someone's eyes…
When silence speaks louder than words…
That's when you know.....the story has only just begun.
And truth be told, when a sandalwood tree grows, can it ever hide its fragrance?
No.
Just like love...no matter how hard you try, you can't keep it concealed.
Grandmother saw it all.
She knew those blooming roses weren't the flowers of friendship…
They were love.....pure, fragile, and in need of careful nurturing.
And that, the wise old woman understood better than anyone.