I had always known he wasn't mine to keep, but that didn't change the way I loved him—quietly, gently, and from afar.



As the seasons changed, the corn stalks grew strong, and the grapevines flourished with hope. But none of it mattered, not when the soil at our feet bound us in a century-old rivalry. We'd never even had a chance.



They said life flashed before your eyes on the way to death, but on that night, after my final scream burst from my throat and my world started to fade to black, I only thought of him. Of his sweet chocolate eyes, his desperately cautious stare, and his silence that carried more weight than gold.



I should have died that night. Instead, I crossed the moonlit bridge and never returned.



I let rivalry win. If only that had been enough to keep us all safe. If only we didn't have a bridge between us.



Contains mature themes.