Rekindle Moment

It had rained the day Joanne first met Kennedy, and it rained again on the day she decided to leave everything behind for him.

Victoria was the kind of town that felt like a secret. Perched at the edge of the coast, its air always smelled like salt and soil, and the sky hung low with unshed tears. It wasn't marked on most maps, and if you asked anyone about it, they'd either shrug or smile in that knowing, unbothered way - as if Victoria belonged only to those who had reason to be there.

Joanne had never thought she'd be one of them.

She stared through the bus window as rows of pine trees blurred into a watercolor of greens and grays. Her reflection in the fogged-up glass looked like someone else - her eyes more hollow than she remembered, her lips pressed too tight. Her fingers toyed with the locket at her throat, the one her mother had given her before she died. Inside it was a picture of Joanne at eighteen, next to the only person who'd ever made her heart stumble: Kennedy Blake.

Back then, they were just kids. Well, he was seventeen and reckless, and she was a quiet, watchful girl who'd follow him with her eyes and never say a word. They had shared three real conversations and one stolen moment under a porch light. He had smiled at her with something dangerous in his eyes and said, "You see more than you let on, Jo." That was the moment she fell.

And now, nearly fifteen years later, she was chasing that ghost into a town she knew nothing about - a town that held more mystery than welcome.

When the bus wheezed to a stop at Victoria's modest terminal, Joanne stepped out into the rain. It wasn't the kind of downpour that demanded an umbrella. No, this was softer - a steady drizzle that sank into your bones and stayed there.

She dragged her suitcase along cracked pavement toward the taxi stand. There were only two cars, both older models, and both drivers looked like they could be someone's uncle or retired detective. She chose the one with the less suspicious smile.

"Where to?" the driver asked, already pulling away from the curb.

"Granville Street. Number sixteen," she said, the address etched into her mind from the listing she'd found online just two weeks ago.

"Ah," the driver said, glancing at her through the rearview mirror. "Miss Morrow's old place. You're renting the garden unit?"

"Yes."

He didn't say anything more after that. But the silence wasn't awkward. It was curious, like he had questions but had already learned long ago that Victoria wasn't a place where questions got answers.

The house appeared before her like something out of an oil painting - weathered and graceful, with ivy curling around its porch columns and wind chimes whispering in the rain. Miss Evelyn Morrow had agreed to lease her the unit without much fuss, just a few polite questions and a comment that stuck in Joanne's mind: "Victoria isn't kind to those who come searching for ghosts, dear. Make sure you're looking for something living."

The unit was small but clean. Wooden floors, a single fireplace, and shelves filled with forgotten books. The bedroom had a wide window that overlooked the garden. Joanne dropped her suitcase at the edge of the bed and sank down beside it, releasing the breath she'd been holding since she left her city life behind.

There were no texts from anyone. No calls. She hadn't told anyone she was leaving - not really. Just a short email to her job resigning with vague details about "personal reasons." Her sister would be furious once she found out. But Joanne needed this. She needed something real, something that wasn't routine and aching and haunted by what could've been.

She reached into her bag and pulled out the photo.

Kennedy - smiling, slightly crooked teeth, arms thrown around a bunch of people at some party. She wasn't even in the picture. But she had taken it. It was the night he told her he was leaving town, vanishing with only a nod and a promise he never kept.

Joanne never knew why she'd kept the photo all these years. Or maybe she did. Because love that goes unspoken doesn't just disappear - it calcifies, hardens like coral, and stays lodged in the deepest parts of your memory.

She hadn't seen Kennedy in over ten years - not until a month ago.

It was at the train station. She had just finished visiting a client and was fumbling through her purse when she looked up and saw him. Older. Broader. Beard neatly trimmed, but those same eyes - sharp and soft all at once. He didn't see her. Or maybe he did and pretended he didn't. He walked through the platform like he was carrying secrets in his coat pockets.

She followed him for three blocks before she lost her nerve. But she caught something from the tail of a conversation he had with a stranger: "Back to Victoria. It's safer there."

Safer from what? she'd wondered.

Now here she was. In the same town. Not entirely uninvited, but not exactly welcome, either. She hadn't told him she was coming. Part of her didn't expect to see him right away. Part of her thought he might show up the moment she stepped off the bus.

He didn't.

And that was fine.

Joanne unpacked slowly, placing the books she'd brought onto empty shelves. She lit a candle beside the fireplace even though it was midday. She made tea even though she hated it. She just needed to do something.

The knock on the door came just before sundown.

She froze, hands trembling slightly. No one knew she was here. Except the landlady.

When she opened the door, it wasn't Evelyn Morrow standing there.

It was Kennedy.

His hair was damp from the rain, and he looked older than she remembered. Tired. Cautious.

"Joanne?" he said her name like it hurt to say it. Or like he didn't believe she was real.

She didn't ao Chapter 2 or make edits/additions to this chapter first?