He Took Me to a Waterfall for Our Anniversary—But It Wasn’t Me He Brought It For (2 of 3)

The car rolled to a stop near a hidden waterfall, tucked between trees that whispered secrets only he remembered. “I used to come here a lot,” he said, his voice trailing off as he led me down a narrow path. The place was beautiful. Quiet. Sacred. And suddenly, it wasn’t just his anymore — it was theirs.

On the trunk of a maple tree, two names were carved inside a heart: Eli + Megan.

My stomach dropped. Not because of the carving — people have pasts. But because of the way he touched it, almost reverently. That’s when I realized this trip wasn’t a beginning for us. It was closure for something he hadn’t let go.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen like this,” he said, his voice cracking. “I thought I could be over her. I thought I was. But I’m not.”

And then, almost apologetically: “You’re… filling a space she left behind.”

Those words cut deeper than I expected. Still, I said the thing I hadn’t dared to say before. “I love you.”

He didn’t answer.

I walked away, feet pressing into moss and damp leaves, heart thudding louder than the waterfall behind me. The silence between us grew thick — until I heard him.

“Wait.”

I turned. He was barefoot, running after me like someone waking from a dream.

“I love you,” he said, breathless. “Not because I’m trying to replace anything. I love you. You’re real.”