A flood of memories surged through Evelyn’s mind the moment she pushed open the door.
Everything in the room was exactly the same as the day they had left. Not a single thing had changed.
“Eve, do you remember when we—”
“I don’t.” Evelyn lowered her head, her voice barely audible.
Matteo froze for a second, then pointed toward a brick model in the corner. “Didn’t we put this in the study after we finished building it? Why is it here?”
Evelyn didn’t follow his gaze. Her voice was calm and indifferent.
“You couldn’t see back then. A lot of your memories must feel like a blur, like illusions that are all mixed up.”
It was just like how she had once believed that Matteo loved her.
But in reality, what he felt for her had only been a mirage. She was something he clung to in desperation.
Because he had been blind, he had relied on touch to navigate his world. She had been like a walking cane to him, a guide, a necessity. That was why he had thought she was important.
But once he regained his sight, he could do whatever he wanted. And just like that, she became irrelevant.
She had believed that their years of companionship would be enough to carry them through any storm.
But in the end, it was nothing more than an illusion. It was just a dream that had crumbled into emptiness.
A fleeting sadness crossed Evelyn’s face, and Matteo felt a tightness in his chest.
He wanted to ask her what was wrong, but before he could, she turned away and walked toward the balcony.
“The piano is in the last room down the hall. You can go there yourselves.”
As the sound of their footsteps faded into the distance, Evelyn sat down in a rocking chair and slowly closed her eyes.
Before long, the bright afternoon sky darkened. Heavy clouds rolled in, and soon, the first drops of rain began to fall.
She got up and went back to the living room just in time to hear the sound of a piano playing from a distance.
It was the first piano piece she had ever heard in her life—A Lover’s Dream.
As she listened, she felt as if she had been transported back to that summer when she was ten years old. Without realizing it, she followed the melody.
Through the window, she saw Matteo and Rebecca sitting at the piano, their hands moving in perfect harmony as they played a duet.
Even after all these years, their connection hadn’t faded in the slightest. Their synchronization was as flawless as ever.
Seven years had passed, yet the way Matteo looked at her was still filled with deep, unwavering affection.
