Graham sank into the small rocking chair in the living room as if someone had drained the strength from his limbs . The chair had been sized for Evelyn's petite frame ; his broad shoulders and long legs felt cramped by its delicate proportions . His gaze slid to a corner of the wall where a patch of paint had peeled away . It dated back to when Evelyn had accidentally bumped the table while moving it . She had fretted about the damage for days , clumsily trying to cover it with paint and only making it worse . By the kitchen threshold , a little step stool waited - because she was too short to reach the top shelves and always climbed up when she needed something . He had warned her it was dangerous ; she would just stick out her tongue and chirp that it was fine . These small things - details he had once barely noticed or even found mildly annoying - pressed into him now like a thousand tiny needles . Memories came like a tide he could not hold back . He remembered thirteen - year - old Evelyn falling out of a tree and landing squarely in his arms , her wide , frightened eyes full of trust , like a startled fawn . He remembered their dying father , breath faint , placing Evelyn's hand in his with trembling fingers and tears on his cheeks ; she had stood there with her head bowed , cheeks flushed , eyes flickering with shy hope . On their wedding night she had perched on the edge of the bed in her white gown , fingers nervously twisting the hem , whispering his name " Graham " -and giving him everything she had . Whenever she ate a favorite snack - like the powdered - sugar donuts he'd detoured to buy - her eyes would crinkle with pleasure , sugar dusting the corner of her mouth as she chattered like a satisfied little hamster . After late nights at the office , he often came home to find the living room light still on . She had been curled on the couch , asleep with her phone clutched in her hand and the alarm set . She had mumbled that she was waiting for Graham to come home . Chapter 12 52.17 % Once , when he had a fever , she had fumbled in the kitchen trying to make a Hot Toddy . She'd poured in too much whiskey and too much lemon ; the drink burned and brought tears to his eyes , but she hovered beside him with bright , hopeful eyes , asking if he felt better . She had saved every spare penny and secretly learned from a neighbor how to bake an elaborate three - layer chocolate cake for his birthday - ending up covered in chocolate and flour , like a chocolate - smeared kitten , but beaming with pride . At his mother's funeral , when he let go of her hand and said he had to find Sophie , Evelyn had suddenly looked up . Those eyes - always full of adoration and dependence - had first gone blank with disbelief , then flooded with grief , and finally closed over in a hollow , lifeless silence that made his chest ache . The contrast between that moment and every vivid memory he had of her was brutal ; it lodged in him like a physical wound . Scene after scene , frame by frame , unfolded with the clarity of yesterday . What he had once dismissed as mere " duty " or " care " shed that comfortable disguise and revealed itself in its true shape : the small , constant warmth stitched into the seams of their life . It was the taste of home . It was the kind of love and attachment he had grown used to - relied on -without ever admitting it . His heart felt as if an invisible hand had clenched it , and a strange , sharp ache spread through him . For the first time , his old mantra- " it's just duty " -wavered . If it had been only duty , why did he remember so many of her tiny expressions and habits ? If it had been only duty , why did the thought of her actually leaving make him feel so hollow , so panicked ? The phone on the table buzzed . It was Sophie Monroe . Her voice was calm and composed , threaded with a deliberately nostalgic warmth . " Graham , are you still looking for Evelyn ? Don't worry so much ... Why don't you get out for a while to clear your head ? Remember when we used to go boating at Ashland Reservoir Park ? Those days ... " At any other time such hints of their past might have stirred a little longing . Chapter 12 52.17 % But now , Sophie's voice collided with the living , breathing image of Evelyn in his mind , and all Graham felt was an inexplicable irritation . Discover our latest featured short drama reel. Watch now and enjoy the story!