Anthony left for a fishing trip before a storm and never returned. His boat was found empty, and with it, my world collapsed — I lost him, and soon after, the child I carried. For years, I couldn’t face the ocean.

One day, I forced myself back to the shore. That’s when I saw him — laughing with a woman and child. Same walk, same smile. But when I called his name, he said, “I’m Drake. You’re mistaken.”

Later, the woman, Kaitlyn, explained: he had washed ashore three years ago, injured, with no memory. She cared for him, and they built a family. When I showed him our photos, his hands trembled, but his eyes were empty.

I realized the truth: the man I loved was gone, even if his body lived. My goodbye wasn’t to him, but to the past. That night, I finally slept in peace — ready to begin again.