Shadow of love and power

The old oak tree stood in front of me like a monument to everything I had left behind, a silent witness to the life I once knew and the dreams I had dared to believe in. Its sprawling branches stretched toward the sky, intertwining like outstretched arms, as if reaching for the fragments of the past that still lingered somewhere above. Those same branches had shaded our summers and held our secrets, and now, even years later, they felt impossibly familiar unchanged by time while everything else had shifted.

I stepped closer, the crunch of leaves beneath my boots echoing in the stillness. My hand trembled as I reached out, fingers brushing against the rough, weathered bark. It felt solid, grounding, yet something about it made my throat tighten. Here it was, unchanged, and yet I had changed so much. I traced the heart we'd carved when we were just kids, E+L, each jagged line as vivid as the day we'd made it.

I could almost hear his voice as it had been back then, light and teasing.

"Think this'll last forever?" I had asked, watching him struggle with the pocketknife as he scratched the letters into the bark.

"It's an oak tree, Ellie," Liam had said with that unshakable certainty he always carried. "This tree's been here forever, and it'll be here long after we're gone."

I'd rolled my eyes, but secretly, I'd believed him. Liam had a way of making me believe in things, even the impossible.

Now, standing here years later, I wondered if he'd been right. The heart was still there, weathered but intact. It had survived storms, seasons, and the weight of time. But had we?

A breeze rustled the leaves overhead, and for a moment, I closed my eyes, letting the memories take over. This tree had been more than just a tree. It was our sanctuary, our meeting place, our everything. It was where we'd built a rickety treehouse that could barely hold us both, where we'd whispered secrets we swore to never tell, and where we'd dreamed of futures that felt infinite.

Liam had always been the dreamer, convincing me to climb higher than I wanted, to take leaps of faith I never would have dared without him.

"Come on, Ellie," he'd said one afternoon, his hand outstretched as I hesitated on the lower branches. "You're not gonna fall. I won't let you."

And I'd trusted him. I always trusted him.

The sting of tears burned behind my eyes as I opened them, staring at the carving again. E+L. Just two letters and a symbol, but they carried the weight of everything we had been-everything we might have been if life hadn't pulled us apart.

I ran my thumb over the heart, as if touching it might somehow bring us back to that time, to that innocence. To when the world felt small and simple, when this tree felt like the center of it all, and when Liam and I believed nothing could come between us.

But life did.

Life always does.

The ache in my chest deepened as I stood there, caught between the past and the present, between who I was and who I had become. The tree was the same, unchanged, and yet it felt like a ghost of something I could never fully return to.

Still, as my fingers lingered on the carving, I couldn't help but wonder could something this strong, this deeply rooted, really ever be lost?

The bark was rough beneath my fingertips as I traced the heart we'd carved together when we were ten. E+L.

Time had weathered the edges, softened the once-sharp lines, but the carving was still there just like Liam had said it would be. "Oak trees last forever, Ellie," he'd told me with that boyish confidence I used to tease him about. "So does this."

I closed my eyes and let the memories wash over me. It wasn't just the carving; this tree had been everything to us. It was where we built our first treehouse, a wobbly structure that Liam insisted would withstand a hurricane. It was where we hid out during summer thunderstorms, the branches shielding us like the arms of some benevolent giant. It was where we whispered secrets, made promises, and dreamed up adventures that took us everywhere our small town couldn't.

"Ellie, catch!" Liam had shouted once, tossing a peanut butter sandwich down from the treehouse. It hit me square in the forehead, leaving a smudge of jelly just above my eyebrow. He'd laughed so hard he nearly fell out of the tree. I didn't speak to him for an entire afternoon, but by evening, we were side by side again, plotting our next great escapade.

I opened my eyes, blinking back the sting of tears. The years had been kind to the tree, but I couldn't say the same for us. Life had pulled us in different directions, and somewhere along the way, the thread that tied us together had frayed.

The sound of footsteps crunching through the leaves behind me made my breath catch. I didn't have to turn around to know who it was.

"I thought I'd find you here," Liam said, his voice soft but unmistakable.

I turned slowly, my heart pounding. He looked older, his shoulders broader, his jaw more defined, and there were faint lines around his eyes that hadn't been there before. But his hair was still that same messy blond, and his green eyes...those hadn't changed at all.