Epilogue

Until Then 
(Charlene's Point of View)

Years passed.

The world kept spinning—emails came, deadlines loomed, new hires stumbled through the same halls.

I carried on. The company thrived. The board smiled. Promotions came. Awards followed.

But something inside me... never quite moved on.

People said I became warmer. Gentler. They didn't know why.

But I did.

I no longer waited by doors or checked my phone hoping for a message that wouldn't come.

I no longer bought two coffees instead of one, or paused at the convenience store hoping for a coincidence.

But I still remembered.

Every morning, at exactly 6:47, a small bird perched on the branch outside my window.

Always the same branch.

Always the same silence.

It never sang. It never flew away when I got close.

It just... watched me.

So I started leaving breadcrumbs. A little dish of water.

Sometimes, I whispered, "Is that you?"

And when the wind was still and the air was soft, I imagined he nodded.

And then, the bird no longer came.

Then one rainy evening, just as I was about to head home, I saw it.

A small, wet dog curled near the building steps.

Its fur was messy. One paw was limping slightly.

But its eyes—those eyes—

They weren't a dog's eyes.

They were his.

I knelt slowly, heart aching in a way I couldn't explain.

It didn't bark. Didn't flinch.

It just looked at me like I'd finally come home.

"Is that you?" I whispered.

It wagged its tail once, and leaned into my touch.

I named him Willie.

And brought him home.

At night, I'd sit beside him on the couch. Talk to him like an old friend.

"Work was tough today," I'd say, rubbing behind his ears. "But you'd be proud. I didn't yell once."

He'd rest his head on my lap, quiet and warm.

Sometimes, I'd stare out the window, remembering his voice.

"Even if I'm not born a human..."

I smiled.

Because love like that doesn't end. It transforms.

It waits patiently—across years, across lifetimes, across species if it must.

I never married.

I never chased again.

But I was never alone.

Because someone once promised he'd find a way to make me smile...

Even if he had to come back with paws... or feathers... or silent wings.

And he did.

He always did.

Memory in the Rain
(William's Point of View)

Somewhere in the sky, on a routine flight back home, the engines gave out.

I still remember the captain's voice—calm, steady:

"Malfunction on engines two and three. Brace for possible water landing."

The plane tilted. Oxygen masks dropped. Gasps filled the cabin. I could hear prayers, sobs, whispers.

I looked out the small window, the sea rushing up to meet us.

And in my heart, I whispered:

"Charlene... I may not be coming back. But I fulfilled my promise. We made it."

Then another face came to me.

"Serena, my love... I'm sorry I couldn't give you more time. I—I just wish we had more. But... I love you. Always."

I strapped on the mask, clutching the seat—then everything went black.

Miles away, I know now... both Charlene and Serena felt something shift. Their hearts ached for reasons they couldn't explain.

Charlene paused mid-keystroke, her thoughts suddenly heavy.

Serena dropped her pen, eyes darting to the window with a strange dread.

Neither of them knew why.

But they both felt it.

Something was wrong.

The next morning, they would read the same headline:

"Flight 726 Disappears After Emergency Landing Attempt in the Pacific. No confirmed survivors."

Then came... warmth.

When I opened my eyes, I wasn't on a plane anymore. I wasn't even me.

I was surrounded by twigs and feathers, nestled in a nest atop a high branch. Wind brushing through me. My body felt light. My arms—gone. Replaced by wings.

I blinked. Dazed. Blank.

No name.

No memories.

Just instinct.

But I flew.

And below me—

The streets.

The skyline.

A building I somehow knew.

And then... a window.

That window.

Framed by a tree that felt like it had waited for me.

I perched on that branch. Every day. Just watching.

She was there. A woman.

She looked tired... but beautiful in the kind of way that pulls time to a stop. She talked to a picture when no one was around. She smiled less. But when she did... God.

I didn't know her name.

But my soul did.

Then, one day—a blur of fur and claws.

A cat.

Pain.

Darkness.

I woke in a cage. A city pound truck. Cold metal. The smell of fear.

The truck jolted. My cage broke free. Crashed onto the street.

The lock popped.

I ran.

Limping. Breath burning. Paw aching.

And then the rain came.

I found myself curled up on a stairway I couldn't name—but felt familiar.

Shivering. Weak. Drenched.

Then I heard footsteps.

And a voice.

So soft. So human. So... hers.

"...Is that you?"

I looked up.

And then—like a flood—

It all came back.

Her eyes.

Her laugh.

Our coffee.

The plane.

The promise.

Charlene.

My tail wagged before I even realized.

She knelt down. Reached for me.

And I leaned in.

No wings. No fate. Just her arms.

The arms of the woman who once loved me silently... and never stopped waiting.

That night, in her quiet apartment, she brushed her hand along my fur and whispered:

"Next lifetime, huh?"

I rested my head on her lap, feeling her warmth.

No, this wasn't the lifetime we wanted or hoped for.

But it was the one where we still found each other.

And Charlene, thank you...

For finding me anyway.

And that...

That was enough.

The End.