The Weight of a Name
The moment the name left Victor's lips, the air itself seemed to falter.
"S–Sasha."
The sound of it—fragile, trembling, and soaked in years of silence—cut through the cool night like the edge of a memory too sharp to hold. The fountain murmured softly behind her, moonlight rippling across the water's surface, each shimmer catching on her golden hair like starlight tangled in silk.
Her breath hitched. The name—his voice—hit her like a forgotten melody suddenly remembered. Her fingers, resting in her lap, tightened; a faint tremor coursed through her arms. She had waited so long to hear him speak her name again. She had imagined it a hundred times—angrily, wistfully, lovingly—but never like this. Never this quiet. Never this raw.
Her throat ached. Her heart twisted.
