Chapter 3 The Rainy Memory

The Rainy Memory

**(Julian's POV)**

It had been years since I had given that summer any attention.

Until the next time I saw her.

Lily Moore was the same girl from that night long ago, but she was older, wiser, and more reserved. The girl whose eyes challenged me to feel something and whose laughter was like melody.

We were simply two strangers fleeing a storm at the time. Wet from the rain and with her clothing adhering to her body, she had sought shelter beneath the ancient bookshop's canopy. I hadn't anticipated seeing anybody else there, so I had followed, chuckling at how quickly the sky had opened up.

Her naked feet come to mind. She was standing barefoot in the puddles, whirling like a kid, having removed her heels. She was getting soaked, but she didn't care about the rain. She seemed unrestrained.

And I-my goodness, I had never had such jealousy.

She grinned when she saw me observing her. She just grinned, as if she knew something I didn't. I also didn't say no when she asked if I wanted to dance in the rain.

As strangers without identities, we danced in the rain, sliding and laughing while holding hands as if we had always been there. Then she put her arms around my neck and kissed me when the thunder crackled too near. As simple as that.

Her name escaped me. Before the rain ceased, she departed.

And here she was now. Lily. The rain-soaked girl.

I had basically destroyed her life.

My pulse was racing as I gazed out my penthouse window, still able to hear her voice from the previous evening. Her suffering had cut me. I was the object of her hatred. In her tale, I was the antagonist, and I was unable to reverse the harm.

I could try, however.

I grabbed my phone. I had to see her one more. I had to let her know that I remembered. That the rain-soaked kiss had also lingered with me.

I dialed my helper. I instructed her to call off our meetings. instructed her to locate Lily Moore and set up a meeting at the cafe beside her store. I had to talk to her at a place where she felt comfortable. where the chilly marble floors and glass walls weren't all around us.

Lily was already at the cafe when I got there. Arms crossed, eyes chilly, alone in a corner.

Before I could take a seat, she added, "I don't know why I'm here."

"Yes," I said. "Because you gave me the first kiss."

Her gaze expanded.

I gave a little grin. "You don't recall, are you?"

She gazed at me. Then blinked. "The precipitation."

"Yes." Slowly, I nodded. It was beside the bookstore that summer. You asked if I wanted to dance while you whirled around in puddles barefoot.

Her arms dropped to her lap as she reclined. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

"You gave me a kiss," I murmured quietly. "And then you vanished."

Her cheeks became flushed. "I believed I had that dream. Your name escaped me.

"Julian," I said. "Crane Julian."

She blinked once more. "No. That isn't possible.

I laughed and said, "I wasn't a millionaire then." "Just an unemployed intern taking a lunch break."

She averted her gaze as if the recollection were more painful now. "You purchased my building."

"I was unaware that it belonged to you."

"How long until?"

"Until the auction's night."

She gave a headshake. "It's too late."

I said, "I'm not here to provide excuses." "The reason I'm here is to commemorate what we lost before it even existed."

She didn't respond. However, she did not depart either.

For a time, we sat there in quiet. Two individuals caught between the past and the present.

Then she said in a whisper, "Julan, what do you want?"

I said, "Time." "Just a week."

She furrowed her brows. "A week for what?"

"To reveal my true self to you." I am not the guy you believe me to be.

"And then?"

"No assurances. There is no pressure. Only a week of the truth.

Once, she gave a harsh chuckle. "You believe that seven days can make up for seven years of silence?"

I responded, "I believe spending seven minutes with you transformed me." "Therefore, I believe that seven days may rescue me."

Her lips quivered as she glanced down at her cup. then nodded slowly. "All right. A week.

Hope was like fire in my breast.

Together, we went outdoors. The sky seemed thick once again, even if it wasn't pouring. Perhaps, like all those years before, it might storm tonight.

Without looking, she walked into a puddle. Before she slipped, I extended my hand and took hers.

Her gaze locked with me.

"Take caution," I advised.

She said, "You weren't cautious back then."

"No," I agreed. "But now I'll be cautious."

She didn't grin. She didn't, however, retreat either.

And it seemed like a beginning.

I had trouble sleeping that night. I slept with her on my mind. Regarding the transformation of the girl in the rain into a lady with barriers around her heart.

I recalled how her lips felt. Her cheeks were wet with rain. The way she had said *"Remember me"* before fleeing.

I hadn't forgotten.

I now had seven days to remind her of the need of remembering as well.

I went to my own study after getting out of bed. I took out the old photograph from my drawer, which my assistant had discovered when researching the building's past a few weeks before. An image of the store from a flood that occurred years ago.

She was in the picture's corner. In the water, spinning barefoot.

She had always been authentic.

And now, if only for a week, she was mine.

I set the picture down on my desk. I then looked at my tablet's news.

That's when I noticed it.

The screen is broadcasting a headline.

**"An Unidentified Third Party Files for Ownership of Bookstore Lot, Putting Crane Corp's Midtown Project in Legal Hot Water." **

What?

I clicked on the article. As I read, my hands became cold.

**Another person had applied for the land's rights.**

**Not Lily. Not me.

**Another individual.**

My blood ran cold as I saw the file name at the bottom.

Richard Moore.

Lily's dad.

Five years dead.

Or so I believed.