Lena sat in the dimly lit café, staring at the old photograph in her hand. The edges were worn, and the colors had faded to sepia tones, but she knew who the people in the photo were. It was her, standing beside a man whose face she barely remembered.
His name was David, but the memories of their time together felt distant, like echoes from a dream she had long forgotten. Her fingers traced the edges of the photograph, trying to summon a past that no longer seemed to belong to her.
It had been ten years since the accident. Ten years since her life had changed in the blink of an eye. One moment she had been driving home, and the next, the world had spun out of control. The crash had left her with nothing but a few scars and a fractured mind, with pieces of her past scattered like shards of broken glass.
But lately, the pieces had started to come together. Each night, Lena had dreams—vivid, haunting dreams that felt more real than the life she lived now. She would wake up in the middle of the night, heart racing, unable to remember if the memories were hers or someone else's.
The same man, David, appeared in her dreams. In one, they were sitting in a park, laughing over something trivial. In another, they stood in front of a house, their fingers intertwined, as if everything was perfect. But there was always an overwhelming sense of loss in the air, a weight that she couldn't understand.
Tonight, Lena had decided to search for answers. The photograph was the only clue she had left, tucked away in an old box of forgotten keepsakes. The man in the picture had once been a stranger, but now, he felt like the missing piece of her past.
She placed the photograph back on the table and sipped her coffee, the steam rising in the cold air. The memories were so clear in her mind, but they were fading as quickly as they had come. Desperation gnawed at her, and she knew she had to find out what had really happened.
As she left the café, Lena's thoughts raced. The visions—no, the echoes—had become more frequent. The house in the dream, the park, the car... It was all connected. She just didn't know how.
The next day, she drove to the address on the back of the photograph—an old, crumbling house at the edge of town. The air felt heavy as she approached the porch, and the door creaked when she knocked. It opened slowly, revealing a man who looked strikingly familiar.
His face was older, with graying hair and tired eyes, but there was no mistaking it. It was David, or at least, someone who resembled him. Her heart skipped a beat.
"You don't know me, do you?" Lena asked, her voice barely above a whisper. The words felt surreal as they left her lips.
David's gaze softened as if he had been waiting for this moment. "Lena, I was hoping you'd come. It's been so long."
The memories rushed back like a tidal wave, drowning her in a rush of emotion. She had known David, once. They had been inseparable, two halves of the same whole. But something had happened—a betrayal, a secret—and Lena had erased him from her life completely, burying the truth so deep that she had forgotten even his name.
David stepped aside, motioning for her to come in. The house was full of photographs—of them, of a life they had once shared. She was shaking, her mind reeling with the echoes of yesterday.
"Lena, I never meant for this to happen. You were supposed to forget," he said, his voice trembling.
"Forget what?" she asked, her throat tightening.
"The accident," David whispered. "The accident that changed everything. You didn't just lose your memory, Lena. You lost me. You lost us."
Lena's heart raced. The pieces were starting to fit together. She had been in love with David. They had been happy, until the accident tore them apart. But the truth had been hidden from her. She had been made to forget him, to forget the love they had shared. The accident wasn't just physical—it had been orchestrated. Someone had wanted her to forget, to erase the life she had built.
Tears welled up in Lena's eyes as she realized the magnitude of what had been taken from her. But the echoes of yesterday were no longer just memories—they were a path to reclaiming what had been stolen.
"I'm not going to forget you again," Lena said, her voice steady now. "No matter what it takes."
David nodded, a sad smile crossing his face. "I was hoping you'd say that"