“Would you like more wine, sir?”
“Yes, please,” he said. “It’s an excellent vintage.”
She smiled softly as she filled his glass. “My mother used to say that the best wines tell the story of the land where they’re born.”
It was an unusual comment from a restaurant server, but it struck Gael deeply. Those were the same words Amélia used to say when they first began making wine together.
“Your mother knows her wines,” he replied, curious.
“She worked in vineyards when she was younger,” the young woman said, her tone tinged with nostalgia. “She used to talk about them like they were alive.”
Gael nodded slowly, his heart tightening. “What’s your mother’s name?” he asked, not really expecting an answer that would matter.
But before she could respond, her gaze dropped to his right hand.
The Moment That Stopped Time
“Excuse me, sir,” she whispered, her eyes widening. “That ring… it’s identical to my mother’s.”
“My mother has one exactly like it,” she said, pointing with a trembling finger. “She told me only three of them were ever made.”
