Epilogue

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Callum's POV




Vita and I happily live our lives in Florence after our honeymoon in Anatolia. Alex introduces Mina to Vita only that his mother was introduced as his cousin's wife. After 2 years, he married her and lived a few miles from our house.

Only after a year, Mina bore him a son. Vita was so excited to see his grandson so much that he couldn't stop talking about it before we go to sleep every night. That's why both Alex and I are both devastated when she died when Mina's already in her 8th month of heart disease. It's unfortunate that she inherited the said disease from her grandfather Heinrich. She was only 23.

I had her buried next to where I intended to bury myself in Anatolia. Alas, I am back to grieving with a lot of memories to remember her by. Her photos and paintings has been my refuge throughout the years while Alex grieved silently as he kept her mother's ring in his possession.

It wasn't until 3 years of her death did I noticed the sketchpad she always look at throughout our marriage. It contained sketches I made of her whenever she sleeps. My tears flowed down to my cheeks upon seeing my wife so vivid and alive in my sketches when something fell between the pages of it. I lean down to get it and read the note. That's when I recognize that it was my handwriting.

She stood still as I go by. This is how it's always going to happen and yet no matter how many times we have gone through almost the same things over and over again, it would always feel like meeting her for the first time.

It was the note that I lost the day I met Vita in Wakefield. My brow suddenly creased when I noticed that something was added in it.

She would remember him through her dreams, reliving the memories she made with him. Loving him unconsciously until her old grand memories catch up with her as time always did.

Mi amore, find me and show this to me in my next life. Perhaps this paper that brought me once to you in this lifetime will bring me back to your arms. I love you forever and always.

-Vita

I place the paper across my chest in my heart, as I weep for the loss I must always endure.







20 years has passed, a dream came to me. She lives in Moscow and is already in her 16th year. I flew to Russia and hope I'd find her right away as I hold my bag that contained a note she wrote a long time ago. When I arrived, I went straight to the plaza where I once saw her in my dreams; I look around and saw a sea of people hindering me to find her as easily as I hope it would be. I jog around with my eyes wandering then my eyes gaze upon a beauty of red hair and blue eyes sitting on a bench as she reads intently a book that she did not know I wrote for her.

I slowly walk towards her with a grin on my face, hoping that somehow he had seen me in her dreams.

"Love is a smoke raised with a fume of sighs" I began as I reach her, earning a look from her. Oh those eyes that have always lovingly gaze upon mine. "Being purged a fire sparkling in lovers eyes; being vex'd a sea nourish'd with the lovers tears." I said then smile down to her as she close her book of Romeo and Juliet.

"You read the play?" She asked, her voice unlike she was Vita, hinted a Russian accent

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"You read the play?" She asked, her voice unlike she was Vita, hinted a Russian accent.

"Yes. I have been fond of reading quite of Shakespeare's play."

She smiled, amused. "Men usually think that this sort of things is too gay for them." She said, raising her book to me.

"Let's just say I respect the mastery of his work that is no lesser true from reality." I said grinning at her.

She smiled. "I'm Maria." She extended her arms towards me.

"Paris." I said shaking her hand.

And thus begin the never ending cycle; a love that always begins and ends with death.

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