This Time, I Let Her Forget Me
"We shouldn't share a pear, Dylan. It sounds too much like despair. We survived so many hardships back in that village, and all I want now is to live a peaceful life with you."
The moment the words left her mouth, a stray fragment of memory flashed through Eleanor's mind.
It was an afternoon just after the first gunfire had ceased.
The wind was whipping the canvas flap of the medical station's tent, bringing in the smell of gunpowder, dust, and the heavy humidity of the distant rainforest.
I took a bite out of a pear, then casually pressed the remaining half against her lips.
When the memory of her younger self realized what she was doing, her eyes welled up with tears.