The garden unfolded before them in a burst of color, vibrant roses in full bloom, lavender bushes gently swaying in the breeze, and tall hedges that created a secluded, almost magical atmosphere.
At the center, a small pond reflected the canopy of intertwined branches above, dappling the garden in soft, filtered light.
He followed Lauren down the cobblestone path, his steps slow and deliberate as if he were afraid he might miss out on any memory that could be triggered by the things around him.
Lauren guided him toward a rustic stone bench near the pond. She sat down, patting the spot beside her.
"We spent hours here, just talking and dreaming," she said, her voice tinged with fondness. "You even put up that swing for me when I joked about wanting one."
She pointed to a wooden swing hanging from a sturdy oak tree, the ropes worn but still intact.
