Elara tugged her jacket tighter as she crossed the quiet street to the small café opposite the bookstore — the place the unknown caller insisted she meet this stranger.

She hesitated at the door, heart beating faster than it should. Something felt... off.

With a soft chime, she stepped inside.

And froze.

He was already there.

Cassian Rhys.

Even in a small town like Brindlewood, his face was unmistakable — the famous actor who rarely gave interviews, the celebrity whose name stirred whispers and sighs across the country.

And yet... as his gaze lifted and met hers, she felt something strange.

Familiarity.

Why did he feel familiar?

“Miss Voss,” he said quietly, rising from his seat. His voice — smooth, low — held no trace of arrogance.

“Thank you for coming.”

Elara stood stiffly. “I was told you wanted to meet me... but why? I don’t know you.”

Cassian smiled faintly — not the charming, distant smile from his magazine covers, but something softer. Sadder.

“You knew me. A long time ago.”

She frowned. “I don’t—”

“The sea.” His voice dropped. “The cliffs. Nine years ago. You saved me.”

Elara blinked.

And slowly... the memory came.

Cold water. Rushing waves. A boy’s terrified eyes. Her small hands gripping his arm, pulling, struggling, until he coughed on the rocks.

Her heart tightened.

“That was... you?” she whispered.

Cassian nodded once.

“I’ve been searching for you since then.”

Elara stared, unsettled. “Why? I only did what anyone else would’ve done.”

“Not anyone,” he said softly. “No one else was there. You pulled me back. You changed everything.”

She swallowed, unease curling in her stomach.

“Is that all? To thank me after all these years?”

A flicker crossed his face — something unreadable.

“You don’t remember everything... do you?”

Elara frowned. “I remember pulling you out... you were angry at first. Then quiet. I was eleven — I didn’t really understand why you were so upset. But... that’s all.”

Cassian’s gaze dropped briefly to the table. When he looked up again, the warmth in his eyes was tinged with something else — regret, maybe.

“There was more,” he murmured. “But... you were young. I suppose you wouldn’t have grasped it then.”

Her frown deepened. “What do you mean?”

But Cassian shook his head lightly.

“Another time,” he said gently. “I won’t force you to remember what your heart forgot. When you do — when it comes back — you’ll understand why I came.”

He slid a small card across the table.

“My private number. If you remember... call me.”

Elara stared at the card, heart pounding.

Who was this man to her?

Cassian rose, casting one last look at her — thoughtful, quiet, and strangely familiar — before walking out into the soft drizzle without another word.

The café door closed behind him with a soft chime.

Elara sat there for a long moment, staring at the card in her hand.

The forgotten ocean memory stirred faintly... but the rest stayed buried, just out of reach.