The time had passed and they were no longer the same, years had passed since the turbulent start of their relationship. But none of that mattered, it didn’t matter if it had been a year or fifty, February the 14th was always going to be a special day for them. That same day, a couple of years ago, was when they saw each other for the first time, when they understood that they were made for each other; that same day, a couple of years ago, was when their lives changed radically.
But he didn’t care, it didn’t matter how much time had passed, he would always celebrate Valentine’s Day.
He dressed like that first day, bought a bouquet of 14 blood roses and drove to the place where he saw her for the first time.
He drove slowly, because no matter how much time had passed, he was still terrified of taking that road. But he drove, after all, and arrived at the right place.
He got out of the car with the bouquet in hand and walked to her, who was always waiting for him. He gave her the flowers that he could never offer her.
It was brief. His heart, wounded and in love, couldn’t stand long beside her. It was as brief as that first time he saw her, which was enough for him to fall madly in love with her. It was as brief as the sudden breakdown of his car that killed his soul mate five years ago, just seconds after fate had united them.
Fate was cruel and ruined his life in a matter of seconds, but no matter how much time had passed, every February the 14th he would return for her, hoping that they would be granted another chance.