PROLOGUE
There are moments that don’t belong to time.
You can’t place them in the past or call them memories.
They don’t fade.
They don’t fall silent.
They stay.
Sometimes they return in dreams — quiet, familiar, aching.
Sometimes in the gaze of a stranger who suddenly doesn’t feel like a stranger at all.
And sometimes… in a heart that starts beating faster, even when it shouldn’t.
For a long time, Viktoria believed she had left everything that mattered behind.
Love.
Safety.
A part of herself.
She learned how to move on. To breathe again. To smile without pain.
She built a new life — quiet, ordered, enough.
Until the day she met him.
She wasn’t looking for him.
She wasn’t ready.
She no longer believed in things that couldn’t be explained.
And yet, all it took was one look.
One.
And everything that was meant to stay buried forever…
came back.
Because there are stories that don’t end with the final chapter.
There are feelings that never die.
And there are hearts…
that always find their way back to each other.
CHAPTER 1
The House on the Hill
The sea was calm that morning.
So calm, as if the world had forgotten — just for a moment — everything that hurt.
A soft mist hovered above the water, and the first rays of sunlight cut through it slowly, as if waking the day with care. In the distance, seagulls cried, their voices blending with the gentle rhythm of the waves.
On the hill overlooking the endless horizon stood a house.
Large. Bright. Quiet.
It wasn’t just a place to live.
It was their story.
Viktoria stood by the open window, leaning lightly against the frame. The wind moved through her hair as she stared into the distance — where the sky met the sea.
She loved this moment.
The silence before everything.
“Drifting off again?” a voice came from behind her.
She smiled before turning around.
Adrian stood in the doorway, a mug of coffee in his hand, leaning casually against the frame. He looked at her as if seeing her for the first time — and at the same time, as if he knew every movement she made.
“I’m not drifting,” she said softly. “It’s just… everything feels simpler here.”
He walked over and handed her the mug.
“Even me?” he asked with a faint smile.
She studied him for a moment.
“You’ve never been simple,” she said finally. “And that’s a good thing.”
He laughed under his breath and stood beside her. For a while, they watched the sea together.
The silence between them wasn’t empty.
It was full.
“Do you remember the first time we came here?” she asked.
“I remember you said you’d live here one day.”
“And you said it was crazy.”
“Because it was.”
“And yet… here we are.”
He turned to face her.
“With you, every kind of crazy makes sense.”
She didn’t answer.
She simply rested her head against his shoulder.
It was one of those moments that couldn’t be put into words.
It wasn’t just love.
It was something more.
Something calm.
Certain.
Unshakable.
As if the world could stop — and they would still be exactly where they were meant to be.
A few hours later, the house was filled with light.
The scent of fresh coffee and baked bread lingered in the air, while warm air drifted in through the open terrace doors.
“You’re going to be late,” Adrian said, buttoning his shirt.
“Doctors aren’t late. They show up exactly when they’re needed,” Viktoria replied, pouring him more coffee.
“So I’m needed later?”
She looked at him with a soft smile.
“You’re needed always.”
He paused for a moment.
“Careful. I might get used to that.”
“You already have.”
He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her waist.
“And I don’t plan on changing that.”
She closed her eyes for a brief moment.
In moments like this, the world ceased to exist.
When they left the house, the sun was already high.
The road leading down the hill wound between the trees. In the distance, a small town came into view — quiet, peaceful, filled with familiar faces.
That was where his restaurant was.
“VIKTORIA BLU.”
A place he created for her.
And a little for himself.
“Will you stop by tonight?” he asked, pausing by the car.
“If you invite me.”
“You’re always invited.”
She smiled softly.
“Then I’ll come.”
He leaned in and kissed her briefly — with a tenderness that didn’t need time.
“See you tonight.”
“See you tonight.”
She watched him drive away.
And she didn’t yet know…
that mornings like this aren’t given forever.
CHAPTER 2
VIKTORIA BLU
The restaurant had been alive since noon.
The scent of fresh herbs, roasted fish, and warm bread filled the air, blending with the hum of conversation and the clink of glasses. The bright interior and wide windows overlooking the sea made everyone who stepped inside leave their rush at the door.
This place had a soul.
And her name stood above the entrance.
“VIKTORIA BLU.”
“Chef!” one of the waiters called out. “The delivery’s here, but the wine from yesterday’s order is missing.”
Adrian looked up from his notes and sighed quietly, without irritation.
“Check the invoice again. If it’s not there, call the supplier. And tell them that if they want to keep working with us, they need to be precise next time.”
“Got it.”
Adrian moved through the room, greeting guests with a brief nod. Many of them he knew personally — some had been coming for years, others had stumbled upon the place by chance and stayed.
But for him, this wasn’t just a business.
It was a story.
Their story.
He stopped by a table near the window. The sea was no longer as calm as it had been that morning — the waves struck harder now, as if the wind had decided to make itself known.
“You’re thinking again,” a familiar voice said.
He turned.
Marc stood by the bar, a glass of wine in hand, watching him with that same half-smile that always meant one thing — he was about to say something uncomfortably accurate.
“I’m working,” Adrian replied.
“Right. That’s why you’re staring at the ocean like you’re about to jump in.”
Adrian smiled faintly and walked over.
“Everyone has their own way of thinking.”
“And yours is called Viktoria,” Marc said without hesitation.
“Don’t start.”
“I’m just observing.” He took a sip of wine. “Ever since you two got together, you look like someone who finally found his place.”
Adrian leaned against the counter.
“Maybe that’s because I have.”
Marc studied him more closely.
“And you’re not afraid of that?”
“Of what?”
“That something this perfect doesn’t last forever.”
For a moment, silence settled between them.
Adrian glanced toward the window.
“Not everything has to end badly,” he said calmly.
Marc shrugged.
“I hope you’re right.”
The afternoon passed quickly.
The light streaming through the windows grew warmer, until it finally turned golden with the setting sun.
And then he saw her.
Viktoria walked in with a quiet confidence, as if she belonged to this place just as much as the walls and the light.
A few people turned their heads.
Not because she stood out.
But because she drew attention in a way that was hard to name.
Adrian moved toward her.
“I thought you wouldn’t make it today.”
“I said I would.”
“I know. I just like it when you keep your promises.”
“Only for that reason?”
He smiled.
“No. I like everything you do.”
She rolled her eyes, but there was warmth in her gaze.
“Do you have a table for me, or do I have to wait like everyone else?”
“There’s always a place for you.”
He led her to a table by the window.
The same one he had been standing at earlier.
“Long day?” he asked, sitting across from her.
“One of those days when you remember why you chose this profession… and why sometimes you wish you’d chosen a different one.”
“What happened?”
She hesitated.
“We saved someone who didn’t want to live.”
Adrian looked at her carefully.
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“No.” She shook her head. “It’s just… sometimes it feels like we’re not fighting for life — just for time.”
“Time is all we have.”
“That’s exactly why we shouldn’t waste it.”
For a moment, they looked at each other in silence.
The kind that says more than words ever could.
“There’s a beach festival on Saturday,” Adrian said. “Will you come with me?”
“Are you asking or telling?”
“Both.”
She smiled.
“I’ll come.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
The sun was sinking below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink.
The restaurant filled with candlelight, and the conversations grew softer, more intimate.
Adrian stood by Viktoria’s table for a moment, watching her as she spoke with a waitress.
He didn’t know why, but he felt something strange.
As if this moment mattered more than the others.
As if it should be remembered.
Forever.
CHAPTER 3
The Night That Was Meant to Last Forever
Night came quietly.
As if it didn’t want to disturb anything.
The road leading up the hill was nearly empty, lit only by scattered streetlights and the moonlight reflecting off the sea like spilled silver.
Viktoria sat beside Adrian, her head resting against the window. She watched the trees pass by, but her thoughts were somewhere else.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the road.
“That I wish I could stop this day.”
He glanced at her briefly.
“Why this one?”
She smiled faintly.
“Because it’s ordinary.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No.” She shook her head. “That’s exactly why it’s perfect.”
The road began to rise, and he slowed down.
“Most people are looking for something extraordinary,” he said. “And you want to hold on to something ordinary.”
“Because the extraordinary fades faster than it begins.”
He pulled up in front of the house.
The engine fell silent, but neither of them moved.
“And this?” he asked more quietly. “Will this fade too?”
She looked at him.
This time, without a smile.
“I don’t know.”
It was one of those answers that felt more honest than the most beautiful promises.
The house welcomed them with silence.
Warm. Familiar.
Safe.
The soft glow of the lamps spread across the walls, and through the open window came the sound of the sea — calmer than during the day, as if the night itself had soothed it.
Viktoria slipped off her shoes and walked barefoot across the cool floor.
“I love this house,” she said suddenly.
Adrian closed the door and stood still for a moment.
“I know.”
She turned to him.
“No. You don’t. I love it because it’s ours.”
He stepped closer.
“You’re what makes it ours. The house is just walls.”
She smiled faintly.
“Walls remember.”
“What do they remember?”
“Everything.”
He watched her in silence for a moment.
“Then they should remember this too.”
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.
No rush.
No words.
Just closeness.
Steady. Quiet. Real.
Later, they sat out on the terrace.
The moon hung high, and the wind carried the scent of the sea and the garden.
Viktoria leaned against his shoulder, holding a glass of wine she barely touched.
“Sometimes I’m afraid,” she said suddenly.
Adrian looked at her, surprised.
“You?”
“Yes.”
“Of what?”
She hesitated.
“That something this good might end.”
He was quiet for a moment.
“I’m afraid of something else.”
“What?”
“That one day I’ll wake up and realize all of this was just a dream.”
She lifted her head and looked at him closely.
“This isn’t a dream.”
“How do you know?”
She gently touched his face.
“Because it hurts when I think about losing it.”
He smiled, but there was sadness in it.
“That’s a strange way to define reality.”
“The truest one I know.”
Silence fell again.
But this time, it was different.
Deeper.
As if beneath the surface of this quiet evening, something waited — something neither of them could yet name.
“Adrian…” she began softly.
“Yes?”
“If one day I’m gone…”
She hesitated.
“Don’t stop living.”
He shook his head immediately.
“Don’t say that.”
“Listen to me.”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
“Adrian.”
He looked at her.
“Keep living,” she said calmly. “Promise me.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because that would mean you’re not here.”
Silence cut through the space between them.
Viktoria tightened her fingers around his hand.
“And if it’s you…” she started.
He didn’t let her finish.
“Then I’ll find my way back to you.”
She froze.
“What?”
“No matter where you are.” He looked straight into her eyes. “No matter how much time passes. I’ll find you.”
“That’s impossible,” she whispered.
“Maybe.”
“No.”
“Then I’ll be the first to prove it.”
Tears filled her eyes.
Not from sadness.
From something deeper.
That night, they fell asleep late.
Close to each other.
At peace.
As if the world had paused for a moment.
As if time itself had stopped.
They didn’t know yet…
that some promises
don’t end with a single lifetime.
CHAPTER 4
The Festival
The beach that evening was full of light and laughter.
Lanterns hung from wooden posts, swaying gently in the wind, casting a warm golden glow across the sand. The air carried the scent of grilled fish, sweet pastries, and the ocean breeze.
Music drifted from somewhere in the distance — light, lively, the kind that made people forget about time.
Viktoria slipped off her sandals and walked barefoot across the cool sand.
“I love places like this,” she said, looking around.
Adrian walked beside her, but his eyes were mostly on her.
“I know.”
“How?”
“Because you look like you’re trying to remember all of it.”
She stopped.
“And you’re not?”
He smiled faintly.
“I only remember one thing.”
“What?”
He stepped closer.
“You.”
She rolled her eyes, but she smiled.
“You’re impossible.”
“And that’s why you’re with me.”
They moved through the crowd, greeting familiar faces. Someone stopped them for a moment, someone handed them a glass of wine, someone told a story that made everyone around laugh.
They were part of this place.
Naturally.
As if they had always belonged there.
“Come on,” Adrian said suddenly, taking her hand.
“Where?”
“You’ll see.”
He led her farther down the beach, toward a dimmer, quieter stretch.
It was calmer there.
Quieter.
Just the sea — and them.
The waves reflected the moonlight, and the wind played with her hair.
“Why did we come here?” she asked softly.
Adrian was silent for a moment.
“Because I wanted you to myself.”
Her heart skipped.
“But you have me all the time.”
“Not like this.”
He took a step closer.
“Sometimes it feels like the world is trying to take you away from me.”
She looked at him more carefully.
“No one’s taking me anywhere.”
“I know.” He smiled faintly. “I just prefer to be careful.”
He brushed a strand of hair away from her face.
“You’re my peace.”
She closed her eyes for a moment.
“And you’re my home.”
Laughter and louder music carried over from the distance.
The world went on.
Unaware.
“Should we go back?” she asked after a moment.
“Just a little longer.”
They stood in silence, listening to the waves.
And then Viktoria glanced toward the road running along the beach.
Her smile faded.
“Something wrong?” Adrian asked.
“No…” she hesitated. “It’s just…”
“What?”
She frowned slightly.
“I have a strange feeling.”
“What kind?”
“Like… something’s about to happen.”
Adrian looked in the same direction.
In the distance, car lights moved along the road.
For a moment, one of them disappeared — as if it had suddenly sped up or veered off.
“It’s just exhaustion,” he said calmly. “You had a long day.”
“Maybe…”
But she didn’t sound convinced.
When they returned to the crowd, everything was the same again.
Music.
Laughter.
Light.
Someone handed them glasses of wine, someone pulled them into a dance.
Adrian looked at her.
“Dance?”
“With you? Always.”
He pulled her closer.
They danced slowly, even though the music was fast.
As if they had their own rhythm.
As if time had slowed just for them.
“You know…” she said softly, resting her head on his shoulder. “If someone asked me right now if I’m happy…”
“And?”
“I’d say it couldn’t possibly get better than this.”
He paused for a moment.
“That’s a good thing?”
“It’s perfect.”
He held her tighter.
As if trying to hold on to the moment.
Forever.
The festival slowly faded.
The music softened, people drifted away, lanterns went out one by one.
The beach grew quieter.
“Let’s go,” Adrian said. “It’s late.”
Viktoria nodded.
She glanced once more toward the road.
The feeling returned.
Quiet.
Persistent.
Unsettling.
This time, she said nothing.
CHAPTER 5
The Moment That Stood Still
The night was warm.
But something had changed.
As if the air had suddenly grown heavier.
The road along the beach was almost empty. Streetlights cast long shadows, and in the distance, the festival music was fading — softer now, like a memory.
Viktoria and Adrian walked along the shoulder, their hands intertwined.
Slowly.
Without words.
“I like moments like this,” she said quietly. “When everything is already ending.”
“I like the moment just before,” he replied. “Because everything is still there.”
She looked at him.
A faint smile touched her lips.
“With you, everything lasts a little longer.”
He tightened his grip on her hand.
He didn’t answer.
The wind shifted.
Colder.
Sharper.
Viktoria looked ahead.
Far off — lights.
She stopped.
“Do you hear that?”
“What?”
They listened.
An engine.
Too loud.
Uneven.
Getting closer.
Too fast.
Adrian frowned.
“Let’s move aside.”
They stepped back.
Then another step.
The lights grew.
Blinding.
The car swerved.
“Adrian…”
This time, he didn’t respond.
He held her tighter.
One more step.
One more—
Screeching tires.
Light.
A scream—
cut short.
Silence.
Not sudden.
Not clean.
Broken.
Metal.
A breath that never came.
Time stopped.
The sea kept moving.
Just as before.
As if nothing had happened.
Someone was shouting.
Someone was running.
“Call an ambulance!”
“Oh my God —”
“Are they alive?!”
Viktoria lay motionless.
Her hair spread across the asphalt.
Her face was calm.
Too calm.
As if she were asleep.
A few meters away — Adrian.
His hand was clenched.
Empty.
As if he had been holding someone just moments before.
Sirens tore through the night.
First distant.
Then closer.
Too close.
“The woman is breathing! No response!”
“The man — critical condition!”
“Move, now!”
Movement.
Voices.
The world was coming back.
But not the same.
When the ambulance drove away, the road was empty again.
Only one light remained for a moment longer.
Flashing.
Blue.
And then—
darkness.
CHAPTER 6
The Threshold
The hospital didn’t sleep.
The light was harsh.
Cold.
Unforgiving.
The corridors stretched endlessly. Silence was broken only by footsteps and the steady rhythm of machines.
People spoke in whispers.
As if louder words might break something.
Viktoria lay motionless.
Her body was still.
Too still.
The monitor beside her set the rhythm.
Even.
Ordered.
The only proof that she was still here.
The doctor looked at the results.
Then at her.
He exhaled quietly.
“Coma.”
The nurse nodded.
“How long?”
“We don’t know.”
Silence.
“We wait.”
The word hung in the air.
Heavy.
Empty.
Without promise.
A few doors down, everything was different.
Faster.
Louder.
Chaotic.
Adrian lay on the table.
The light above him was too bright.
Too sharp.
The movement didn’t stop.
“Pressure’s dropping!”
“Adrenaline!”
“Move!”
Hands worked automatically.
Precisely.
Without hesitation.
But something was slipping away.
Slowly.
Irreversibly.
“We’re losing him —”
“No.”
Short.
Firm.
“Again.”
Silence lasted a fraction of a second.
“Again!”
Impact.
Another.
One more.
Time stopped moving.
It stretched.
It cracked.
The sound of the monitor changed.
A single line.
Flat.
Unbroken.
Someone froze.
Someone lowered their hands.
Someone looked away.
The doctor glanced at the clock.
Too long.
“Two seventeen.”
Silence.
Final.
There was nothing left.
Adrian was gone.
Without a word.
Without goodbye.
As if the world had suddenly forgotten he had ever existed.
A few walls away, Viktoria was breathing.
Steady.
Calm.
Unaware.
As if she had stopped in the exact same moment.
Suspended.
In between.
As if she were waiting.
But not for him.
Not yet.
The machines kept working.
Steady.
Indifferent.
The hospital went on.
New footsteps.
New voices.
New stories.
One had just ended.
Another didn’t yet know
it had lost everything.
CHAPTER 7
The Last Goodbye
The church was quiet.
Not the quiet of the night.
The quiet of something ending.
People sat in the pews.
Familiar faces. Friends. Family.
Pale expressions.
Wet eyes.
No one held another’s gaze for too long.
As if there was too much truth in it.
“This shouldn’t have happened,” Marc whispered.
His wife squeezed his hand.
“I know.”
The priest’s voice carried through the space.
Calm.
Even.
Out of place against the grief hanging in the air.
“Adrian was a man who loved…”
The words echoed off the walls.
And came back.
Heavier.
Truer.
No one disagreed.
No one could.
By the coffin stood his parents.
His mother stared at the wood as if she could see her son through it.
Her hands trembled.
“He was always so strong…” she whispered.
Her voice broke.
She didn’t finish.
She didn’t have to.
His father stood beside her.
Still.
As if any movement might break something further.
Marc stepped closer.
He placed a hand on his shoulder.
“We have to remember how he lived.”
His father shook his head slightly.
“But I also remember that he’s gone.”
Silence.
Thick.
Unbearable.
The flowers smelled too sweet.
As if they were trying to cover something that couldn’t be covered.
People whispered.
Memories.
Short.
Broken.
“Do you remember the restaurant opening…?”
Marc tried to smile.
It didn’t work.
“He always made everything better.”
“Even a simple dinner,” someone added quietly.
“Even an ordinary day.”
The words lingered in the air.
For a moment.
Too long.
Viktoria wasn’t there.
And that was the most visible thing of all.
An empty space.
An unspoken question.
Where is she?
But no one asked it out loud.
The sound of the coffin being lowered into the ground was dull.
Heavy.
Final.
The earth fell slowly.
As if even it didn’t want to do it.
“Goodbye…” Marc whispered.
His voice broke.
He didn’t say the name.
As if saying it might change something.
People knelt.
Prayers were spoken softly.
Some said nothing at all.
They just watched.
As if trying to remember the moment.
Or erase it.
After a while, they began to leave.
Slowly.
Reluctantly.
As if they were leaving behind more than just a body.
Marc stayed last.
He stood there for a long time.
Looking down.
“You still had so much left to do…” he whispered.
Silence gave no answer.
“She’ll wake up,” he added after a moment. “She has to.”
This time, his voice was weaker.
As if he didn’t quite believe it himself.
The hospital.
The house.
The restaurant.
Adrian’s world had fallen silent.
As if someone had turned off the sound.
And Viktoria…
was still somewhere in between.
She didn’t know.
She didn’t feel.
She couldn’t say goodbye.
She couldn’t speak the last word.
And maybe that was what hurt the most.
CHAPTER 8
Awakening
The light was soft.
But cold.
The quiet hum of machines filled the space.
Steady.
Almost calming.
Viktoria moved her fingers slightly.
Then slowly opened her eyes.
The image was blurred.
Like looking through fog.
Ceiling.
Light.
Silence.
“Where…?” she whispered.
A nurse stepped closer.
“Easy. You’re in the hospital.”
Viktoria frowned.
As if trying to remember something.
Fragments.
Light.
Sound.
Broken.
“What happened…?”
“You were in an accident.”
Silence.
Viktoria took a shallow breath.
And then the question came.
Naturally.
Without thought.
“Where is Adrian?”
The nurse froze for a fraction of a second.
Too short to hide.
Too long to miss.
“He…” she began.
She hesitated.
“Try to rest for now.”
Viktoria looked at her more carefully.
“Where is Adrian?”
This time quieter.
But stronger.
The nurse squeezed her hand.
“The doctor will be here soon.”
That was wrong.
Viktoria already knew it.
Her body knew before her mind did.
“No…” she whispered.
“Please, try to stay calm…”
“Where is Adrian?”
This time, her voice broke.
The answer didn’t come right away.
And that was the answer.
Viktoria closed her eyes.
For a second.
As if trying to turn back time.
See it again.
Fix it.
Change it.
When she opened them, the world was the same.
Cold.
Foreign.
Empty.
“He’s dead… isn’t he?” she asked softly.
The nurse didn’t answer.
She didn’t have to.
Tears filled Viktoria’s eyes.
Slow at first.
Then all at once.
As if something inside her had shattered.
“No…” she whispered. “No, no, no…”
Her breathing quickened.
Her hand clenched the sheet.
“This isn’t how it was supposed to be…”
The nurse tried to say something.
Anything.
But there were no words that could carry this.
“I want him…” Viktoria’s voice was barely there. “I want to see him…”
Silence.
Heavy.
Still.
Her hand slowly moved to the side.
To where his touch had always been.
It stopped in emptiness.
And that was worse than anything else.
Tears ran down her cheeks.
Quietly.
Without strength.
“How…” she broke off. “How am I supposed to live now…?”
No one answered.
Because there was no answer.
The monitor beside her kept its steady rhythm.
Unaffected.
As if nothing had changed.
And everything had.
Viktoria turned her head toward the window.
The world outside kept going.
Unaware.
Indifferent.
Her heart was beating.
But a part of it remained back there.
On the road.
Beside him.
CHAPTER 9
Return
The house looked the same.
And that was the worst part.
Viktoria stopped in the doorway.
She didn’t step inside right away.
As if the threshold were a boundary she wasn’t ready to cross.
Finally, she took a step.
Then another.
Silence greeted her instantly.
It wasn’t unfamiliar.
It was familiar.
Too familiar.
“I’m back…” she whispered.
Her voice disappeared into the emptiness.
No one answered.
Everything was in its place.
A mug.
A chair.
An open book.
As if he had only stepped out for a moment.
As if he would be back any second.
That was the worst part.
Not the mess.
Not the chaos.
But the order.
She walked into the garden.
The flowers were blooming.
Just like before.
Pink.
White.
Unshaken.
“How is it possible…” she said softly, “that everything keeps going?”
The wind moved through the branches.
It didn’t answer.
She started doing things.
Small things.
Ordinary things.
Washing.
Folding.
Watering.
Her hands worked.
Automatically.
As if her body knew what to do when her mind no longer did.
The restaurant was still open.
People came.
They ate.
They talked.
They laughed.
The world hadn’t stopped.
“I’m not selling it,” she said calmly to the manager.
He looked at her carefully.
“It was his life.”
“I know.”
She hesitated.
“And mine.”
Sometimes she sat at the table by the window.
The same one.
She looked out at the sea.
For a long time.
Without moving.
“You should be here…” she whispered.
The chair across from her was empty.
Too empty.
Nights were the worst.
The house breathed differently then.
Quieter.
Deeper.
She walked through the rooms.
Slowly.
Touching things.
The table.
The walls.
The doors.
As if checking whether they still existed.
Or if he was still there somewhere.
“This can’t be real…” she whispered.
But it was.
Everything was too real.
People came by.
Quietly.
Carefully.
As if afraid of doing something wrong.
“You need to rest,” a friend said.
Viktoria looked at her.
For a long time.
“How?”
That one word was heavier than anything else.
The days began to blur.
Mornings.
Afternoons.
Evenings.
Without clear edges.
Without meaning.
Each day began the same.
And ended the same.
In the evening, she stepped out onto the terrace.
The sea was calm.
Just like that day.
“I love you…” she said softly.
The wind carried the words away.
Just like it had taken everything else.
She stood there a little longer.
Still.
Alone.
But alive.
Not the way she used to be.
Not the way she wanted.
But alive.
And that was the hardest part.
CHAPTER 10
A New Life
The light was warm.
Soft.
The first breath was short.
Then another.
Louder.
A cry broke the silence.
“Welcome…” the woman whispered, exhausted, smiling through tears.
The man leaned closer.
“Our son…”
The boy moved his fingers.
A small movement.
Instinctive.
Natural.
And yet…
for a fraction of a second, something felt off.
As if this moment had already happened once before.
Days passed.
Slowly.
First glances.
First smiles.
First steps.
The world was new.
And yet…
sometimes, it felt familiar.
The first time it happened was at night.
He woke up suddenly.
For no reason.
His heart racing.
There was an image in his mind.
Brief.
Broken.
The sea.
He didn’t know where it came from.
He didn’t know why.
He fell back asleep.
But something remained.
As time passed, there were more moments like that.
A beach.
Lantern light.
Laughter.
Not his.
And yet…
close.
Too close.
As a child, he didn’t understand.
As a teenager, he tried to ignore it.
“They’re just dreams,” he told himself.
But dreams don’t have a scent.
These did.
Salt.
Wine.
Summer.
The first time he truly stopped was when he saw the sea.
He was a teenager.
Standing at the shore.
The waves rolled in calmly.
And suddenly, he felt something strange.
Not awe.
Not curiosity.
Longing.
Deep.
Unexplainable.
As if he had returned to a place he knew.
But not from this life.
“Is something wrong?” his mother asked.
He didn’t turn.
“I don’t know…”
He fell silent.
“I feel like I’ve been here before.”
She laughed softly.
“I’m sure you have.”
“No…” he shook his head. “Not like this.”
He couldn’t explain it.
As the years passed, the images became clearer.
A house on a hill.
A window.
Morning light.
And her.
Always her.
A face he didn’t know.
And yet…
the most important one.
The first time he said it out loud, he was staring at his reflection.
“Who are you…?”
Silence didn’t answer.
But something inside him already knew.
Not everything.
Not completely.
But enough.
He couldn’t explain it.
He couldn’t reject it.
He couldn’t forget it.
Too real.
Too deep.
Too much his.
One day, he looked at a map.
By chance.
Or maybe not.
His finger stopped at the coastline.
His heart beat faster.
“There…” he whispered.
He didn’t know why.
But he knew he had to go.
Because there are things you can’t forget.
Even when the world begins again.
CHAPTER 11
Remembering
He sat by the window.
Watching the street.
He wasn’t looking for anything specific.
And yet, he couldn’t stop.
As if something was about to happen.
Or already had.
The image came suddenly.
Brief.
Incomplete.
Light.
Laughter.
And a face.
It disappeared just as quickly.
The boy closed his eyes.
“Again…” he whispered.
It wasn’t a dream.
Dreams fade.
This stayed.
Too clear.
Too real.
His mother stepped into the room.
“What are you thinking about?”
He opened his eyes.
Too quickly.
“Nothing.”
She nodded, but she didn’t look convinced.
With each day, there was more of it.
Not images.
Feelings.
Warmth.
Peace.
And then suddenly—
emptiness.
And pain.
Without reason.
Without explanation.
The worst part was the name.
It came on its own.
He didn’t know where from.
He didn’t know why.
“Vik…” he once started, staring into the mirror.
He stopped.
As if he had crossed a line.
He didn’t finish.
But he knew it was there.
“Sometimes I feel like…” he said once to his father.
“Like what?”
He hesitated.
“That I remember something.”
His father smiled faintly.
“We all feel that way sometimes.”
“Not like this.”
He looked at him seriously.
“These aren’t my memories.”
Silence.
This time, his father didn’t joke.
The sea came unexpectedly.
He saw it for the first time in years.
And stopped.
Not because it was beautiful.
Because it hurt.
Like longing.
For something he couldn’t name.
He stood there for a long time.
Too long.
“I know this place…” he whispered.
But he had never been here before.
At least, not the way he remembered.
That night, he didn’t sleep.
He stared at the ceiling.
Waiting.
For something to return.
Or disappear.
It didn’t.
The next day, he made a decision.
Not suddenly.
Not dramatically.
Quietly.
Like something that had been growing for a long time.
“I have to go there.”
He didn’t know where.
But he knew he would recognize it.
CHAPTER 12
The Journey
He packed a backpack.
A few clothes. Documents. A handful of small things he didn’t fully understand why he was taking.
“Do you really have to go?” his mother asked.
“Yes,” he replied calmly. “I need to find out.”
“But it’s the other side of France…”
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