“Stop right there, Adrian.”

Rosemary’s voice was cold, slicing through the still air of the late afternoon cemetery.

She stood before her mother’s grave, placing white flowers with trembling fingers. Her eyes were still wet, but her composure showed in the way she held back her sobs.

Adrian halted only a few meters behind her. His body stiffened, his eyes fixed on the back of the woman he longed for — the woman he ached to hold. His breathing was heavy, but he knew he couldn’t give up.

“Rosemary…” Adrian’s voice was hoarse. “I know you don’t want to see me here, but I had to come. I… I want...