Years from Now
The elm tree is much larger now. Its branches shade a small wooden bench where a man and a woman sit every evening at sunset.
They don't talk much; they don't need to. Their silence is a comfortable, woven thing. In the garden nearby, the lavender is in full bloom, a sea of purple that stretches toward the horizon.
There are no more ghosts in the valley. There is only the wind in the leaves, the scent of the earth, and the enduring power of a first love that was brave enough to become a second chance.