The Night We Met

291 5 3
                                    

I had all and then most of you. Some and now none of you. Take me back to the night we met.

The rain falls in steady sheets, a gray veil over the cemetery. Nicholas stands alone at the edge of your grave, his dark coat soaked through, his hands trembling as he grips a single white rose. He's only 25, just a few years since you both had dreamed of a lifetime together. But now, he's here, saying goodbye.

As the priest's words fade into the background, he's no longer standing there. He's lost in memories, each one sharper and more painful than the last.

Flashback 1:
It's the Fourth of July, a year ago. Fireworks crackle in the night sky as you and Nick sit on the hood of his car, eyes fixed upward. You're laughing, teasing him for being so easily startled by the loud noises. But he's not really listening. He's just watching you, his heart full and heavy, marveling at how the colors of the fireworks light up your face.

"Why are you staring?" you laugh, nudging him with your elbow.

"Because," he says, leaning in closer, "I just can't believe you're real."

He blinks, and suddenly, he's back at the funeral. His fingers grip the rose tighter, his knuckles white. His heart aches, longing for that night, for the warmth of your laughter. His breaths come shallow as he tries to hold himself together, to be strong for you. But he feels like he's falling apart.

Flashback 2:
You're both sprawled on the floor of your first apartment together, surrounded by half-opened boxes and takeout containers. He remembers how you giggled, sitting cross-legged, as you both tried to put together a shelf with no instructions.

"You have it upside down," you teased, stifling a laugh.

"I was...testing you," he replies with a smirk.

After a while, he stops and just watches you, realizing he could do this forever—build a life with you, little by little, even if it meant every shelf would end up a little crooked.

The image fades, leaving him breathless. That tiny apartment, the smell of Chinese food, the way your laughter filled the empty rooms—it all feels like it was just yesterday. He closes his eyes, wishing he could step back into those moments, wishing he'd known they were some of your last together.

Flashback 3:
It's a rainy afternoon, and you're both huddled under a single umbrella, walking hand-in-hand. You pull him close, not minding the rain soaking through your clothes. You kiss him, your lips cold and soft against his. He remembers how he shivered, not from the cold but from the overwhelming feeling of being so deeply in love.

"I'll always love you, Nick," you had whispered, your face inches from his.

"I'll love you more," he had replied, holding you tighter, as if somehow that could keep you by his side forever.

As the final words of the ceremony drift over the crowd, Nick steps forward, laying the rose on your grave. The weight of loss sits heavy on him, and he's left with nothing but the memories, those beautiful, painful reminders of the love he lost too soon.

Weeks and months go by, Nick still reminiscing the memories you two once shared. He's lost without you. The sad emotions show on his face wherever he goes; whether it's hanging out with friends or going to premiers he always looks sad. No one has seen his real smile is what feels like forever. Nick tells himself he will never love anyone like he once loved you. He doesn't see himself with anyone but you. Sometimes at night he swears that he sees your ghost in the room with him. You telling him that you are okay and that you love him. Nick doesn't know what to do with himself now that you are long gone, all he can do is go back and think about the night you two met.

Nicholas Alexander Chavez Imagines Where stories live. Discover now