A Vow Lost to Time

The nineteen-year-old version of Agnes shed another tear.

"So tomorrow night… she'll regret it."

Neither of us expected that the twenty-seven-year-old Agnes would truly appear on the beach. She came, but not to keep our promise.

"Frank, you actually followed me here? Are you spying on me? You're pathetic!"

The beach we once chose for my proposal was now covered in roses, with fireworks arranged behind them in a dazzling display.

And at the center of the blossoms stood the twenty-seven-year-old Agnes. Even when she saw me, she did not let go of Nicholas's hand.

"Your three chances are over, Agnes."

I murmured softly, while beside me, the nineteen-year-old Agnes clutched my arm in despair.

"Frank, please don't… Maybe she prepared this for you. Let's go see, all right?"

Her voice trembled on the edge of pleading.

But the twenty-seven-year-old's voice was cold as ice.

"Frank, get over here!"

I turned my head, gave the younger her a gentle look, then stepped forward.

The moment I did, the older her lashed out.

"Frank, what more do you want? You stole Nicholas's watch, and I let that go. Now I arrange a fireworks show by the sea to make it up to him, and you want to ruin it too?"

I shrugged lightly.

"Not at all. I just came to watch the fireworks. If you don't mind, bring me two chairs."

My indifference left her momentarily speechless.

I ignored her after that, leading the tearful nineteen-year-old to the side and sitting down with her. I whispered words of comfort, but her sobs would not stop.

Seeing that I made no further scene, the twenty-seven-year-old finally relaxed. She even clung to Nicholas openly, whispering sweet nothings in his arms.

I felt nothing. I only held the younger Agnes's cold little hand more tightly.

Time slipped into the deep of night.

As Valentine's Day drew to its close, the fireworks bloomed against the sky.

Beneath the cascading light, I drew from my pocket the ring I had prepared long ago. Dropping to one knee, I whispered tenderly to the nineteen-year-old before me, "Agnes, will you marry me?"

She covered her mouth, tears spilling. "You… you'd still marry me?"

"Of course. I will always love the version of you standing before me now."

I looked into her eyes with absolute sincerity, the starlight in them my eternal devotion.

I don't know how long it took before she finally nodded hard and extended her left hand.

"Frank, I will. I will."

Smiling, my heart overflowing with joy, I gently took her hand.

Just as I was about to slip the ring onto her finger…

The clock struck midnight.

The nineteen-year-old Agnes dissolved into countless motes of starlight, vanishing completely before my eyes.

I could no longer hold back my tears.

"Goodbye, my dearest Agnes."

At that moment, Nicholas's voice rang abruptly behind me.

"Agnes, Frank looks so pitiful. Kneeling here all alone—who's he even proposing to? How much happier I am with you by my side."

I turned to see Nicholas, at some point, had brought Agnes to stand behind me. From where she could not see, his face was twisted with mockery.

And yet Agnes herself was weeping, her tears streaming down her face.