Chapter: Scents from the Past

Going back to the park wasn't something I planned. My feet, more than my will, took me there, as if something gently pushed me to return. This time, I went alone. I carried another letter in my bag, not as long as the last one, but just as sincere. It wasn't a farewell. It was a quiet "I'm okay."

The sky was overcast, but it didn't look like it would rain. The air was cool, and the park was calm. Children played in the distance, couples strolled by, and a few people, like me, were alone. I walked slowly until I reached the same bench—the one I had shared so many times with Tom.

I sat down. I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the silence wrap around me. I took out the letter and held it in my hands, still unopened.

And then, it happened.

A scent.

So familiar it took my breath away.

It couldn't be. That perfume... that perfect balance of wood, freshness, and a warm note. It was him. It was his scent. The same one that used to linger on my clothes after hugging him. The one that used to make me turn around, full of hope, when he was still alive.

I opened my eyes and looked around. A man was sitting a few meters away, reading a book. I couldn't see his face clearly from where I was, but something about his posture, the way he turned the pages, reminded me of Tom.

My heart sped up. I didn't want to get closer. Not this time. I didn't need confirmation. Because deep down, I knew it wasn't him.

But that scent...

I closed my eyes again. Let the fragrance surround me. This time I didn't cry. I let the sensation carry me, as if Tom were sitting beside me once more. As if the universe had granted me a borrowed moment to feel him near.

I took out the letter, unfolded it, and read it quietly, just for myself... and for him.

"Today I didn't come to say goodbye. I came to tell you I'm moving forward, that I've learned to breathe without pain, that your memory is no longer a thorn but a lighthouse. Thank you for being you, for loving me in the freest way I've ever known. I carry you with me, but not in my tears anymore. I carry you in my calm."

I folded it again and placed it between the pages of my notebook, as if it were a secret between us.

When I opened my eyes, the man was gone. And the scent had faded.

But I was still there. At peace.

The next afternoon, Olivia met Marcos again at the campus café. He was already there, with his notebook open and a half-cold coffee in his hands. When he saw her approach, he smiled with that quiet warmth that always calmed her.

"You went back to the park, didn't you?" he asked before she even sat down.

Olivia paused for a second. She looked at him, slightly surprised, and then sat across from him.

"How did you know?"

"Your eyes. They're different. You look... lighter," he said, closing his notebook. "And when someone lets go of a weight, you can see it in their eyes."

She looked down, stirring the tea she had just ordered. Then she spoke.

"I took another letter. It wasn't a goodbye. I just needed to tell him I'm doing better. That I'm walking more steadily. That the pain doesn't trap me like before."

Marcos nodded silently.

"But that wasn't the most intense part," Olivia added. "When I was sitting on the bench, I smelled him. His cologne. As clearly as if he were right there beside me. I felt him again. I closed my eyes and I swear, for a moment, everything was like it used to be."

Marcos listened attentively, not interrupting.

"There was a man nearby. I didn't get a good look at him, and I didn't try to get closer. I didn't need to. I just... let the scent wrap around me. It felt like a gift from the universe, one last time. But this time, it didn't break me. It didn't hurt. I just... felt him."

Marcos smiled softly.

"Maybe Tom found a way to tell you he's okay. That he's watching you from wherever he is. Or maybe it was the world's way of reminding you that true love doesn't disappear—it just transforms."

Olivia met his eyes.

"Thank you for understanding. Not everyone would."

"You don't have to thank me," he said gently. "When someone like you shares their pain, it's not about understanding everything. It's about holding it for a while, so they don't carry it alone."

A warm silence settled over them. For the first time in a long while, Olivia felt truly accompanied. And even though Tom was no longer there, she knew there were people willing to walk with her as she moved forward.