The late afternoon breeze carried the soft scent of cherry blossoms beginning to fall. Petals drifted gently along the quiet pathway of the Memory Garden, painting the stone walkway in delicate shades of pink. On an old stone bench hidden beneath a towering tree, Evelyn sat with her head resting on William’s shoulder.

No words passed between them for several minutes. Only silence—wrapped in the slow rhythm of their breathing and beating hearts.

“Sometimes I feel… this peace is too quiet,” Evelyn murmured, her gaze lost in the falling petals.

William glanced at her.

“Too quiet sounds bad?”

She shook her head.

“No. But it scares me. Every time we...