#..........im

returning to aston came with its perks, as well as a countless downsides. reminders of his childhood and days free of responsibility were always pleasant to reminisce on, but those memories never came alone. despite having left aston for six years, emerson found it almost impossible to forget all the stories that he’d grown to associate with each location around the town. the high school, the farm, the beach, and the park. he was quickly learning that if he were to remain in aston, he had no choice but to acknowledge the man he’d been before, and accept that his past and present self were inevitably linked. walking through the park trail, his eyes glazed over each familiar face, lingered on old benches that were tied to distinct memories, even certain trees served as a reminder of a life he’d once had. emerson’s gaze paused on one tree in particular, immediately recognizing it from meters away. after a moment’s hesitation, the male slowly approached the tree, searching the trunk for one specific spot. and there it was: eb + lh — forever. the carvings had been put into the tree over a decade ago, yet the writing seemed to look untouched, very much the opposite of the actual relationship itself. still, he found his lips curling into a small smile. emerson remembered this day just as clearly as he could recall all of their other days together. this had been their tree, as cheesy as it sounded. the tree the pair liked to sneak away to when slipping early out of class, their meeting spot when something was urgent, the one he’d pressed her up against too many times he could barely count. it was, of course, laura, who suggested the two engrave their initials into the tree, unwavering in her confidence that the words would ring true for the rest of their lives. emerson grazed his thumb against the letters, while his mind drifted elsewhere. the last time he had seen his wife was ten years ago, but she still managed to throw off the male’s entire thought process and emotions at any point in time. his wife — that didn’t sound real. the logical part of his brain constantly tried to remember that she fit into that title merely under legal obligations, and nothing more. there was no longer anything to hold out for — the pair had been named high school sweethearts for a reason. but a smaller part of the brain, but unfortunately a much more controlling one, was persistent. emerson wanted to believe they belonged together, or was that just him desperately trying to grasp his high school days when every factor of his life had run seamlessly ? his thoughts were cut off at the sound of footsteps approaching from behind him and emerson, blinking, immediately returned back to the present.