A Second Chance At Forever novel (Eleanor and Bernard) novel Chapter 1539

On the day of Damian's coming-of-age celebration, heavy snow began to fall, reminiscent of the day Eleanor had awakened from her vegetative state. The sight was so eerily familiar that she stood transfixed by the window, forgetting to descend the stairs.

Bernard, freshly dressed, emerged from the changing room and noticed her motionless figure by the floor-to-ceiling window. He, too, paused to stand beside her.

Gazing at that silhouette, which seemed etched into his very soul, Bernard was momentarily transported back to their youth. Eleanor, bathed in light, walking towards him with her hair flowing and her eyes sparkling, had seared herself into his heart.

In his life, that silhouette was the most unforgettable, the one he feared forgetting the most. Yet, while life's years could stretch long for some, for him, barely fifty years would pass before everything was reclaimed...

He harbored no resentment towards fate, only a deep reluctance to part with his Eleanor. However, no matter how reluctant, his physical body could no longer bear the weight of his profound affection and the desire to spend another lifetime with her.

With a resigned smile, Bernard forced his weary body back to the changing room to retrieve a fluffy overcoat, wrapping it around Eleanor from behind.

Startled from her daze by the embrace, Eleanor looked down at the hands around her waist and instinctively covered them with her own.

"Your hands are much colder today than usual."

"The weather's turned cold; it's natural for them to feel colder..."

Eleanor didn't respond, instead turning to look up at the man holding her. The sight of his still strikingly handsome face made her want to cry.

"Darling, there's so much I haven't had the chance to tell you. Can you... wait a little longer to leave?"

Bernard paused at her words, then slowly released his embrace, placing his hand gently on her nose in an affectionate gesture.

"Foolish girl, I'm right here with you, and I'm not going anywhere."

Eleanor caught Bernard's fingers and, standing on tiptoe, lifted her chin to kiss his lips, which were unnaturally cold...

"Bernard, have I ever told you how much I love you?"

A quiver ran through Bernard's heart, but he masked it well, rubbing his nose against Eleanor's cheek. "In these three years, you've told me every day. How could you say you haven't?"

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