When they entered the grand ballroom, Ophelia's breath caught in her throat. A grand diamond chandelier hung from the very center of the gilded ceiling with smaller ones fanning out across the room, and the polished floor was so clean that they could see their reflection looking back at them. Above them, balconies lined the perimeter of the room with two spiral staircases leading up to them. Lords and ladies dressed as grand as themselves filled the room as servers and attendants bustled between them serving drinks and canapes. A small group of musicians sat in the corner, their soft tunes floating across the room over the murmurs of the crowd.

"It's beautiful," Ophelia gasped, clutching onto Chandler's arm subconsciously. "I've never seen anything like it before."

"Indeed," he agreed, his heart beating faster for no apparent reason. He glanced over at her, but she was too mesmerized by the grand ballroom to notice his gaze on her. Even though many years had passed, she had never left his mind. Their happy moments together were firmly rooted in his memories, though veins of regret and loss persisted under the surface, no matter how hard he tried to get rid of them. Still, to that very day, he could not believe how he could have let her go. The wound still felt raw and only seemed to fester as years passed with no communication between the two of them.

Just then, the music shifted into a more upbeat waltz, and on cue, the other couples slowly began to move into position. Ophelia finally looked over at Chandler, butterflies exploding in her stomach as her eyes met his. Everything about this place, from the decor to the atmosphere, felt as if it were a very vivid dream, and the presence of the man next to her only furthered that feeling. There was no place on earth where this much beauty and joy was possible; it would not be able to be contained without bursting. But here she was, standing in the beautiful ballroom, hearing the music, feeling her hand around his strong arm. It was real and from it came a new wave of emotions washing over her. Yes, she was pleased to see him again, but she could not rid herself of a lingering pain of their past and the thought that he possibly didn't feel the same about being with her again.

"May I have this dance, my lady?" Chandler asked, interrupting her thoughts. His voice was soft and a little unsure, as if he thought she would emphatically decline his offer.

She tilted her head, pretending to contemplate it a little. "I suppose, my lord."

Moving onto the dance floor, they turned to face each other, hearts beating in unison. Extending his left hand out, she placed her right one in his. He held it gingerly, feeling the calluses and scars from all the times she accidentally pricked herself in her haste. Her touch had never been soft and smooth, but he always loved that about her, that rough edge to a gentle soul. His other hand touched her shoulder blade, and even though it wasn't on her bare skin, it sent shivers down her spine. They were so close, chests almost touching, and she could swear he could hear her racing heart. Ophelia let out a shaky breath before they began to move to the beat, him leading and her following. Her eyes stayed at the level of his chest, looking over the blue flowers that matched her own and the golden chain of his pocket watch that stood out against his dark suit. His eyes ran over her outfit, admiring all the intricate details of her handiwork. She never failed to amaze him with her art, and she had only gotten better over the years. The skirt of her gown flowed gracefully around her, and she had made sure while designing it that it wouldn't drag on the floor too much. Both of them didn't say a word, and though music was playing in the background, each felt they had to say something to fill in the empty silence.

"You look beautiful," he finally murmured, his heart skipping a beat as she raised her eyes to look at him.

"Thank you. You look quite dapper yourself."

"I appreciate it."

"So...how have you been faring lately?" she asked, trying to hide her nervousness by glancing away and pretending to focus on the dance. His hold on her was gentle but strong, so she didn't have to think too much to match his movements.

"Well enough. Work's been busy as always, but it has been nice to have a break such as this, albeit a brief one. And you?"

She couldn't help but cringe a little at the mention of his work. Was there really nothing else he could talk about? Then again, that was basically her life now as well. They had come so far from when they were young kids without a care in the world. A small feeling of guilt slowly began to wrap itself around her heart, causing a dull pain in her chest. She had really given him a hard time for no good reason, just because of her own ignorance and immaturity.

"I've been well," she replied. "The shop's been rather chaotic, but at least I'm getting a fair number of customers every day."

"That's good. You're not overworking, are you?"

"Are you?"

He frowned. "I asked first."

"I think you know the answer to that," she returned, an unintentional amount of bitterness permeating her tone. She immediately regretted it when she saw his frown deepen, but she didn't say anything else.

"Ophelia..." he muttered, speaking in a hushed tone so that the others wouldn't hear them. It didn't matter much though, as the other guests appeared to be in their own worlds, immersed within their own stories. Noticing that she was falling a little out of rhythm, Chandler applied a slight pressure to her back, and she quickly adjusted her pace, a blush of embarrassment creeping onto her cheeks.

"Well, I don't suppose you're doing anything other than work either. Or am I wrong?"

"What else is there to do?" he shrugged half heartedly, knowing how pathetic he sounded. He by no means enjoyed it, but he didn't have much of a choice. His work was strenuous and taxing, leaving little time for anything else. At least it gave him something to work on to distract him from the ever present loneliness that seemed to follow him around like a shadow.

"You don't have a family yet? A wife and children?"

Her question caught him off guard and he raised an eyebrow before shaking his head. "No. The opportunity never really arose either."

"It never arose or you never made an effort?" she clarified, eliciting a slight chuckle from him.

"Perhaps both." Although, he would not admit that his lingering feelings for her were part of the reason he never really tried. "And what about you, Ophelia? Have you a man yet?"

She shook her head. "No, I do not."

"Was there never an opportunity or did you not make an effort?"

She rolled her eyes playfully at hearing her own words being repeated back to her. "Neither. No one caught my attention, and I wasn't looking to find someone."

"Did anyone have interest in you, at least?" he asked as he twirled her around, his voice hesitant.

She couldn't contain the amused smirk that crept onto her lips. "Perhaps a few here and there. Why?"

He grunted, trying his best to seem unfazed. "Just curious. I...I would be surprised if not a single person found interest in you."

"And why is that?"

"You know why."

"Do I?" she provoked, looking him in the eyes again. Her showy confidence faltered, however, with how he looked at her, his blue eyes swimming with emotions of every kind. Her breath hitched in her throat, but she could not bring herself to look away, her own eyes falling into the depths of his strong gaze. Before she could say a word, the waltz music ended, a heavy silence filling the air from everyone in the room. Blinking in surprise, she hurried into a messy curtsy while he dipped into an elegant bow, composed and refined as always. When they had both straightened up, he offered a hand to her again.

"Walk with me?" he offered in a soft voice.

Feeling her heartbeat pick up again, she hesitantly placed her hand in his as he led her off the dance floor. As they headed to the doors, Chandler paused to speak to the attendants, hoping they weren't causing any trouble by leaving. The attendants assured them that all was well, and even opened the doors for them to exit. As soon as they stepped into the hall, Chandler released her hand, opting to give her some space because of the topic they were about the breach. Ophelia looked over at him in surprise, but quickly averted her gaze, clutching onto her skirt to occupy her now empty hands. Neither spoke for some time, the only sounds filling the void were the soft music drifting from the ballroom and the tapping of their footsteps on the marble floors.

Ophelia decided to focus on the intricate tapestries lining the halls, admiring all the details in each of the images. One that stood out to her was of a young lord and lady sitting together under a tree. They appeared to be having a lively conversation, their expressions that of joy and amusement with wide smiles and rosy cheeks. A sad smile came to her face, as she thought about what they could be saying to one another. It was most likely frivolous things, as young people often do, but she could feel the genuine happiness emanating from the artwork regardless.

Noticing his partner had stopped walking, Chandler paused as well to look over the tapestry. Upon seeing it, he knew exactly why she had stopped and what she was thinking as his own thoughts were no different. Out of habit, he reached for his pocket watch to fiddle with as worry and nervousness bubbled up inside him. Hearing the familiar snap of metal, Ophelia glanced over at him, an almost melancholic look on her face.

"We've grown so much," she murmured, her voice fading out by the end.

He hummed in response. "We had to at one point. We can't be young forever."

"I know," she laughed dryly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I remember back when our biggest worries were not being able to make it to the annual town festival. Or a rainy day ruining our meet up plans. Or our parents catching us sneaking out of the house at night."

Chandler chuckled. "Those were good times. I never thought I'd ever see you like this though. In this state, I mean."

"I don't follow."

"Well, you're just like me now. All stiff and serious and lifeless. You said that I'd never catch you turning into me."

She laughed. "I did say that, didn't I? How foolish and innocent we were."

"Nothing's wrong with that. We were young and in love. It's only natural."

"Yes, but we dreamed up so many delusions about the future—about our supposed future together—and I actually believed it was possible."

"People make plans, but there will always be things out of our control," he explained, tilting his head. "You know I never planned nor wanted to leave you."

She glanced away, feeling the dull ache in her chest return. "I know. It was not fair for you to have to grow up so fast, and it was not fair for me to act like it was your fault."

"And it was not fair for me to just throw everything we had away without much of a second thought."

"You didn't have much of a choice. It's what your family asked of you."

"Asked, but not ordered. I was only thinking about myself and how others would perceive me." He paused for a moment to collect himself, continuing to fiddle with his pocket watch. "You know, I never stopped thinking about you ever since I left."

She scoffed. "Really? I find that hard to believe."

"And why is that?"

"Because what reason did you have? You never even wrote to me, so I assumed that you really didn't care about me anymore, especially after all I said."

He frowned. "I thought you wouldn't want to hear from me. You did say that you never wanted to see me again, and part of me knew you didn't fully mean it, but I suppose I was afraid to assume wrong."

She was silent for a few moments, the ache in her chest growing by each passing second. "Perhaps I was angry at first, but I...I really did miss you. I would be lying if I said that I wasn't a complete wreck the first few years after you left. And I've tried to fill that void all this time with work and family and such, but I've never been able to."

He found himself nodding in agreement with her words. Part of him knew it was true the whole time, but hearing her say it herself sent years of pent up sorrow and pain flowing out of him like a river. He exhaled slowly, doing his best to keep his voice steady despite his strong emotions. "The same goes for me. I thought that I wouldn't need you to be happy, with this job and with this affluent life I'm living. But in spite of it all, I still felt so empty inside...like something was always still missing."

"I suppose we both were too prideful to admit our wrongs," she spoke softly. "And for that reason, we've wasted so much precious time, wallowing in anger and despair over something we could have very much resolved."

"Maybe we could try to make up for that now."

He looked over at her, and their eyes met again. Her lips parted but she couldn't find the right words to say, leaving them in silence again. However, this silence was no longer tense and heavy, but rather serene and beautiful, their fears finally dissipated with the tearing down of the barrier that had driven a wedge between them. He offered her a small smile that she returned, one of genuine happiness that neither of them had felt in a while. Her hand slid over his that was still fiddling with the gold pocket watch, steadying his hand from his nervous fidgeting. For the first time that night, she embraced him, blinking back the tears in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Chandler."

He returned the gesture, holding her tenderly in his arms. "I'm sorry too."

Before she knew it, tears were streaming down her cheeks, and she buried her face in his chest, whispering apologies over and over again. Her hands clenched onto the fabric of his suit tightly, as if she could lose him forever if she let go. He stroked her back in a comforting manner, feeling his own eyes brim with tears. Unable to stop the rush of emotion, he didn't try to stop himself from crying, exposing his vulnerable side that was so often pushed away. Pulling back slightly, he cupped her face in his hands, wiping away her tears with his thumbs.

"I won't ever leave again, I promise," he whispered as she nodded feebly. "I'm not going anywhere."

"B-but what about your job? Everything you've built up overseas?" she sputtered. "You don't have anything here anymore."

"I have you."

"Is that enough?"

He smiled, pressing a gentle kiss on her forehead. "It's more than enough."

"But—"

"Don't worry about a thing, love. Everything will work out, I promise you."

Looking up at him with wide eyes, his calm expression assured her that everything would be alright as he said. She smiled through her tears, hardly believing that this was all real. The pain that had been slowly building up in her chest had vanished, leaving only a warm and euphoric feeling behind. Chandler pulled a handkerchief out from one of his pockets and handed it to her, and she took it, expressing her gratitude.

"I've never seen you cry before," she remarked quietly as she wiped away her tears.

He chuckled. "Well, I've always tried to hold back when I'm with you."

"You don't have to, you know."

"Yes, but you'd probably cry more if I did too."

She laughed, shaking her head in agreement. "That's probably true."

He smiled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His touch was light, barely brushing her skin, but enough to send warm, comforting waves flowing through her. He took her hand in his once more, their fingers intertwined.

"The night is still young," he remarked. "Would you like to return to the ballroom for another dance?"

She shrugged, looking down at the dress she had spent so much time on. "I probably look like a mess right now."

"Not at all. I'd say you look even better now, especially with that smile."

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Sure, Chandler."

"Hey, I'm just speaking the truth."

She glanced down shyly, toeing the ground with the tip of her shoe. "Well, then I suppose another dance wouldn't hurt."

Chandler grinned, nodding in agreement. Hands still intertwined, he led their way back to the ballroom, unable to help himself from stealing furtive glances just to admire her. Her silver necklace glittered in the moonlight streaming through the windows, complimenting her fair complexion. It wasn't anything heavy or fancy, but the simple chain fit her and who she was perfectly. That was one thing he loved about her: she could turn the simplest things into the most beautiful things in the world. Everything about her just screamed perfection, and he couldn't believe that he was with her once again. When they arrived at the doors again, the attendants greeted them warmly.

"Is everything well, Lord Chandler and Lady Ophelia?" one asked, likely noticing the faint tear streaks still on their cheeks.

Ophelia nodded promptly. "Yes, everything is wonderful."

They smiled. "Enjoy the rest of your evening."

Chandler and Ophelia thanked them before proceeding further into the room, just in time for the next song. The dance floor was slightly less crowded this time, so they took their places somewhere near the middle, eyes fixed on only each other. One song passed followed by the next and the next as they danced the night away, smiling and laughing the whole time. Ophelia seemed to gain more and more energy as the night went on, even inventing her own dance steps and leaving Chandler laughing as he tried his best to keep up. At one point, she tried to twirl and dip him which nearly resulted in both of them crashing to the floor. Though acutely aware that they likely looked like absolute lunatics, neither really cared, too immersed in the moment to worry about anything.

Heart racing in his chest, Chandler grinned as Ophelia twirled circles around him as he held onto her hand. Only she could bring out the inner child in him and coax him out of his normal comfort zone, and he couldn't imagine doing this with anyone else in the entire world. Ophelia laughed as she saw Chandler's exhausted but amused expression at her playful antics. She had never been the perfect lady with her loud voice and unfiltered opinions, but Chandler had never put her down for it. He had always been so patient with her and all her shortcomings, even the times she had been difficult or unreasonable.

Sighing, Chandler pulled her close to his chest, wrapping his arms around her. She hugged him back, shutting her eyes and listening to his strong and steady heartbeat. The sound of the clocks striking the hour caught their attention, and they looked at each other in surprise. Chandler quickly pulled his pocket watch out for both of them to examine.

"Goodness, where did the time go?" Chandler gasped, his eyes widening when he saw the position of the ever ticking clock hands.

Ophelia smiled, closing the watch and slipping it back inside his suit pocket. "Time flies when you're having fun...especially when you're with the one you love."

Chuckling quietly, he tilted her chin up with his hand as he leaned down, his lips just a breath away from hers. "Then let me savor each moment we have and make it last forever."

Her eyes fluttered shut as everything disappeared around them. Then, it was as if all those long years had not passed at all and they had never been apart, with time itself standing aside to make way for a mended love.