Damian looked at Elena, his eyes hopeful yet also afraid of the answer that would come out of her mouth.

"Elena, do I deserve a second chance?" he asked softly.

Elena let out a long breath, bowing her head for a moment. The wind blew softly, carrying the scent of wet soil and jasmine flowers from the freshly placed gravestone.

"A second chance?" repeated Elena softly. Her eyes slowly met Damian’s—deep, clear, and full of hurt.

"I’m sorry, Damian..." she said calmly but firmly. "There are no second chances."

Damian frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I’ve been through a lot, Damian. Years of hiding who I am, raising four children...