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Much Later: Prologue
Almost thirty years had passed before he realized his mistake and by then it was too late. I really did love you, he whispered into the chilly November air. He knew his words didn't matter now, not anymore. A gust of wind stirred up the fallen leaves and they twirled around and around, as though trying to find their way. He remembered the old Dylan song and hummed it to himself as though it were comforting. A man on the path glanced over at him standing still beneath the tree, before wrapping his coat around him tighter to keep out the wind and hurrying on his way. What happened to us, he asked her, but her answer didn't come. He hadn't really expected it to, but a part of him had been hoping one might.