Three Half Years Earlier
Skylar POV

I did everything according to the rules. I followed every guideline. And yet, I'm still the reason we lost our rose. A tear slips down my cheek, warm against the cold drizzle beginning to fall, blending into the rain that pours over me. It washes away nothing, leaving only the ache behind.

The air was thick with the earthy scent of wet soil and grass. I know I should find cover as the rain soaks through my clothes, chilling me to the bone, but I can't find the desire to move. I stand here in the park, frozen, haunted by the thought that I caused pain to the two people I loved the most, Joey and Rose. Joey says he doesn't blame me, but how could he not? It was me who got her taken prematurely.

I could feel the constant vibration in my pocket. I knew it was Joey without looking. He noticed I was missing and searching, but I had to leave. Escape, but it's hard to escape from the pain in my heart since it's intertwined in my life.

An umbrella appears above me, shielding me from the downpour, "Are you okay?" someone asks softly, her voice gentle against the steady patter of rain.

Am I okay? The question lingers in the damp air, so simple yet impossible to answer. People might say I should be okay because I'm still alive, but at what cost? I lost our rose, and the truth is, I don't know if I'll ever be okay again. I stay silent, unable to find the words, feeling too broken to respond.

"Don't let your troubles consume you," she said, her voice warm and kind, an odd contrast to the cold rain around us. "You're such a beautiful person, even with those tears in your eyes."

Beautiful. Such a strange word, especially from a stranger. A beautiful person wouldn't carry this weight, this guilt that's hollowed me from the inside out. My fingers brush against the ultrasound photo in my pocket—a tiny glimpse of the rose who never had a chance at life because of me.

More tears fell as I realized that if I were beautiful, I could have nurtured, protected, and guided her safely into this world—a way to show my love as I waited for her arrival. But I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and I couldn't give her the gift of life. How could I be beautiful when I failed at the one thing she needed most?

"But who am I to say your pain isn't real?" She continues, her voice becoming a soft murmur blending with the rain. "If it has you standing here in tears, then it must be serious. For that, I'm sorry. Besides, only a strong person can be willing to cry."

"Strong." That's what Joey said too—strong for trying to move forward, for carrying on after we lost her. Seeking justice for her against the car that struck us that fateful day. He told me it wasn't my fault, but if not mine, then whose? My responsibility was to love, protect, and nurture our rose—not the driver's, not Joey's. I should have paid more attention, even to that driver, if I wanted her to see the world, to know I loved her.

I could feel the stranger's eyes staring at me as if they were studying me. Then, I felt a warm jacket drape over my shoulders. I wanted to shrug it off, but for some reason, I didn't because I knew that I needed it. The warmth was welcome from it, even if I didn't feel I deserved it.

She continued speaking even though I remained silent. No words passed from me, yet she stayed above me, shielding me from the rain as if she were trying to protect me from something more.

"Such a talkative person," I thought, yet somehow, her words felt like a small patch of warmth growing against the chill surrounding me.

"I see it's a tough crowd. How about I try a different approach?" The kind stranger said, her tone lightening as if trying to lift the mood with a joke.

"There has to be something good happening in your life. I could be a good thing—or an annoying one," she added with a bright smile, her playful tone offering a hint of lightheartedness. As the sadness in her eyes slowly disappeared, "Is there anything positive? Would you like some candy?" She nods toward the grocery bag in her hand.

Her hand brushed mine as she gave me the chocolate, and a spark—almost like electricity—passed between us. It was then that I realized the rain had stopped. She glances upward, a soft smile lighting her face. Despite myself, a small smile tugged at my lips—the first in a long time, as I held the candies.

"See? There's always a rainbow after the rain, something beautiful waiting at the end," she said, pointing to a faint arc forming in the sky.

For a moment, I want to ask her if she's an angel. I've never met someone so kind, especially a stranger. But before I can say a word, her phone rings.

"Yes, I'm close by," she replied to whoever was on the other end. "I'll be heading back now."

She looks at me and smiles again. "Thank you so much! By the way, my name is Isabella, and it was nice meeting you. I hope to see you again." Gently, she places the umbrella in my hand.

"Wait—" I say, surprised to hear my voice. Isabella turned, a warm, understanding look in her eyes.

I held out the umbrella and jacket, and she shook her head. "Keep them," she said. "A reminder that something good happened today. You were the positive event for me," With a final smile, she turned and walked out of the park.

I let Isabella's words linger in the air, mingling with the scent of the rain-soaked earth and the fading rhythm of droplets on the umbrella in my hand.

I glance back in the direction Isabella went, but she's already disappeared into the park's misty distance. She was such a peculiar person who offered kindness with nothing in return must be an angel. I wonder if I am dreaming, the thought drifting through my mind. My hands still held the umbrella she left behind, the evidence she was real.

I felt a tight hug on me, "Hey, don't go missing again," Joey expressed as he held me tightly. "I barely found you," he declared.

"Where did you get this from?" He asked, taking in the jacket and umbrella.

I looked at the direction the angel left. I wonder if I will ever see her again.

"Isabella," I softly said.