I saw her shivering under the rain.

Lightning illuminated the night sky at short intervals, blinding the ominous shape of heavy clouds threatening to explode. Swollen ocean waves were raving and frothing like a giant washing machine, splattering foamy water, which gushed all over the gray sand beach. Thunder growled repeatedly in the background, echoing the most dramatic sound effects.

My cabin was so close to the empty beach that the flashing sparks of lightning outside helped me glimpse her tiny silhouette through the glass window. She stood in the middle of the storm, a short distance from my door. She wrapped her arms around herself and fidgeted like a little wet kitten, her flowing dress whipping in the wind.

My eyes widened. This is madness. Nobody in their right mind would've stayed outside on the beach in this ridiculous weather. This person was either lost or a complete screwball.

I left the half-full coffee mug on the table by the window, wiping my paint-stained hand in an old towel, and grabbed my raincoat that hung next to the door. I slipped it on and hurried outside before the girl turned into a human popsicle

"Hey! You can't be there in this weather," I shouted, standing in the doorway. The tongue-lashing of mother nature was deafening me. Fresh bolts of lightening lit the night sky like fireworks. Crackling of thunder followed my lead as I shouted again, "HEY! What are you doing here?"

The girl flinched and quickly pirouetted to look at me with round eyes. As if the pandemonium behind her wasn't enough to scare her to death.

"I'm waiting for someone, " she yelled, holding herself for dear life.

"In the middle of the storm? That's crazy! Who is this jerk?" I asked as I stepped closer to her, rain drops rapping on my waterproof hoodie.

"Don't say that!" She shrieked, shaking her head. Her eyes glittered like liquid aquamarine in the blink of lightning. They were beautiful. Beyond beautiful. A string of tears disappeared within the rain as she wiped her face with trembling hands and ran her fingers through her soaked hair.

Something tugged at my heartstrings to see how vulnerable she looked. This bastard definitely stood her up. I wondered how long she'd been waiting like this.

"Alright. Alright. I'm sorry. At least come inside. It's like doomsday right now. You'll get sick, " I told her.

She stared at me with a cautious expression, forehead puckered, teeth chattering. Her little body quivered from the cold and the absurdly thin white dress she was wearing.

So, he just told her to wait for him and she complied without a second thought? Without even bringing a jacket? Why on earth...?!

My heart ached to watch a girl like her, so young and fragile, treated this way. Even though she was a complete stranger, I felt a strong urge to protect her from this cruel world, which included this Shakespearean tempest boiling in the horizon.

"I swear, I'm not a perv, or a serial killer or anything. You can wait for this guy inside where it's warmer. I'm sure a jer-- I mean a guy who left you waiting in a storm wouldn't mind if he found you there." I gave her a reassuring smile even though I was being sarcastic. The jerk needed a nice black eye to teach him not to toy with innocent girls like this. Sadly, it was clear he wouldn't show up.

I motioned to the door of the cabin, inviting her in. It was actually more of a cottage since it was made of gray dry-stacked stone. It was the perfect sanctuary for a lone artist like me.

The girl took a few steps to the front door. She stopped in the doorway, looking around and rubbing a hand over her shoulder.

"Come on in, you're freezing. For God's sake, I don't bite." I gestured to the door again.

She sighed and followed me inside.

I had a fire lit in the hearth and the difference of the temperature warmed my bones instantly as I shut the door behind us.

Home sweet home.

Taking off my coat, I turned to glance at her. She stood in the middle of the sitting room, drenched and lost. Her beauty was stunning in the well-lit cottage. I froze for a minute, gazing at her like an idiot.

I knew I shouldn't ogle. She might freak out and think I was an immoral jerk too, but there was something magnetic about her. Something pure and ethereal. Her dripping hair reflected a rare shade of deep cherry, heart-shaped face so creamy that it was almost transparent, full lips that matched the color of her waist-long hair, and then... her eyes! They weren't from this earth - otherworldly windows, wide open and leading directly into her soul. They weren't blue nor green. It was a color I'd never seen in my life, which basically revolved around colors. I wanted to mix that color with my brush and give it a name and show it to the whole world. I wasn't sure if I could get it right.

She was the type of beauty who inspired poets and artists through the history of mankind. And for a second, I wished to be one of them.

But then I remembered everything I once had and my body tensed up.

A bitter lump rose to my throat as I lowered my gaze to glance at the ring on my left hand before I clenched it into a tight fist.

No... I can't...

"What's your name?" I asked her, my voice thick, as she stood still in front of the fire, rubbing her arms absently, her hair still damp from the downpour.

"Azura." She turned to stare at me with an empty expression, doe eyes shining in the light.

Even her name was so unique. Azura! Azura! Like an ancient goddess.

"I'm Edgar." I stepped closer, careful not to frighten her and raised my hand for a handshake.

She smiled. Her hand was icy cold and looked a bit blue. I scanned her face again. She was excruciatingly beautiful, but her angelic face was pale. I was afraid she might get sick or suffer from hypothermia. She must've been waiting for this bastard for too long.

"I'll get you a blanket... you like some coffee?" I asked.

"Okay." she nodded.

I returned with a warm blanket, a towel and a steaming cup of coffee. She was curled up on the sofa, still staring at the fire, looking in deep thought, or in a deep daze.

"Here," I murmured, draping the blanket over her petite frame. " let me help you with the hair, ok?"

"You don't have to." She spun her head to me, her soft brows flying up.

"It's okay, I'm just trying to help," I reassured her.

She gave me a tentative glare.

"I swear, I mean well."

"Erm, Ok. Sorry, I'm just... " she broke of, her lips curving up weakly.

"It's okay." I smiled.

I handed her the coffee and walked around the backrest to dry her hair. A familiar feeling punched me in the chest as I worked the towel over her cherry tresses. The last time I'd done this for a woman, she was mine.

Stop being so damn pathetic! It's been five years!

I inhaled deeply, dumped the towel on the floor and sat down on the sofa at a comfortable distance.

Focusing on my unexpected guest, I felt bad for this girl, but I was curious. It was hard to believe there was someone so heartless who actually didn't want her. Any man would die to have someone like her. Not that beauty was everything, but it was for so many people. She seemed so innocent and delicate. I couldn't imagine what kind of a brute would break her heart and leave her like this.

"What happened?" I asked. " What brought you here in this awful storm?"

Thunder still roared outside, the whistling wind grazed the stone of the cottage.

She turned a lost gaze to me."I had to. "

"What did he promise you? Were you running away together?" I tried to guess the strong motives she might have had as an excuse for being so reckless.

" No... nobody promised me anything. I came on my own." She looked down at her coffee. A blush slowly appeared on her porcelain-doll face.

"You said you're waiting for someone." I frowned.

"Yes. But...."

"But?"

"I... I don't know who he is." She sighed and looked away towards the fire again.

"Oh! That's a problem. Did you meet in a chat room or something of that sort?" I tried to find a good excuse for her, other than being a nutcase.

"No... it was... something else," her voice broke and she averted her face.

"Like?"

"Uh! A dream..."

"Oh!"

Good heavens! The poor girl is demented!

I folded my arms and didn't know what to do except to shut up. Maybe I could help her get home when this storm was over.

At this point, I heard her weeping. Her body shook under the blanket from the muffled sobs that made my heart melt for her.

"Hey, it's ok." My hand sailed tentatively to brush a loose strand of her damp hair.

"No! You think I'm crazy! Everyone does!" She squeaked.

"No I don't, " I had to lie. Poor thing! "Tell me about your dream. Maybe I can interpret it. "

Her eyes widened and then she looked down and wiped her tears with her fingertips. "Are you sure you're not making fun of me?"

"Trust me. I'm not," I answered in honesty. I just wanted her to feel okay. I still had this compulsion to protect her with everything I had. I resisted a strong desire to take her in my arms and comfort her. It could only be the effect of five years of solitude.

"Well, I've been having the same dream for months and... it feels too real and it's ruining my life," she bit her lips. "It's insane... I don't think you really need to hear this." She shook her head, her expression wistful.

"I do. I really do. I want to help, " I said, having a strange nudging feeling to hear her story.

She glanced wistfully at me.

I nodded and smiled to her.

"I, umm... I see... a beautiful woman. She tells me things about my future. She tells me I must wait for a man near the ocean. That me and her are kindred spirits and that man is our soul mate." Her voice lowered in the end and she broke the eye contact with me again.

She was clearly doubting her sanity and afraid of being judged. She believed this dream, and for some reason, I was intrigued. Something felt genuine in this mess. Or maybe I was just as crazy as she was.

"Oh! And what else? What did the woman tell you?" I asked.

"S-she told me that... I will meet my other half and we'll be happy together and that I'll recognize him... through her." She swallowed some coffee, a frown forming on her flawless face.

"How?" I urged.

"She didn't explain. There are other things that just sound so vague." She shook her head, glancing at me from under her long lashes, her lovely eyes pleading with me to understand.

I really wanted to understand.

"Do you remember her face? " I asked, a distant sense of recognition playing at the edge of my consciousness.

"Yes. She's so pretty. Her hair is long and dark. She was posing like the Mona Lisa. I think she told me her name was Sarah or... Lisa." Her eyebrows knitted as she struggled to remember and my heart pummeled my ribs like a hammer.

The air froze in my lungs and I felt ancient tears gathering in my eyes. My hands rose to my head, holding each side. The storm was still rumbling outside the cottage, but there was another storm inside of me, ripping me apart.

This couldn't be true, could it? Is this a practical joke?

Azura glared at me. Her look a mixture of fear and confusion and maybe a touch of... compassion?

I sprang up, planning to erase the doubt. I had to know what was going on.

"Azura, would you please come with me?" I requested, trying my best to sound composed.

"It's okay. I-I can leave on my own." She stuttered and blushed as she got up from her seat.

"No. I just want to show you something." I smiled a tight smile. "Please, come with me."

There was a silent earthquake in my heart as I led her to my room. Our room. She had to see it. I needed to know what this meant. My whole being was quaking in anticipation.

She followed behind me as I opened the bedroom door and stepped inside. I flipped the light switch on and held my breath.

She gasped.

"It's her! Oh my God! It's her!" She cried and covered her mouth.

Azura stared, in awe, at the full size oil portrait on the wall. The one where I painted Sarah, posing as the Mona Lisa. Sarah Lisa Carson. My beloved wife. My only love. The one I couldn't get over for five years since she'd passed.

I wiped a tear that rolled on my face with the palm of my hand. "She really sent you to me, didn't she? How's that possible?"

Azura turned around to look at me, her beautiful face a crimson, tearful mess. "I don't know!"

"Do you really believe this?" I whispered, stepping closer to rest my hands on her shoulders ever so lightly.

"It's been haunting me for too long. I think I'll give it a shot, unless you..." her face fell and she lowered her head.

Softly, I pushed her chin up with my finger to make her look into my eyes. "My first love, Sarah, gifted me with a second chance. Of course, I'll give it a shot."

"So you really believe it now?" She asked.

"Yes. I believe it. Nobody knows about the 'Sarah Lisa' painting I made her." I chuckled, recalling how we once used to joke about it. "You realize how crazy this is?

"Yes!" She nodded.

"I'm probably much older than you. You look, what? nineteen?" I pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear.

"I'm twenty one." She grinned.

"Well, I'm almost thirty. "

"Doesn't matter." She shook her head.

"We don't know anything about each other." My eyes scanned her face for any hint of hesitation.

"We can learn."

"I'll never stop loving her."

"I know."

"And I really thought you were crazy."

Azura laughed for the first time. My ears were singing and dancing with the sound of her laughter.

I glanced at Sarah's smile in the painting that looked brighter than it used to be, then I watched the way Azura seemed to lighten up my heart as she laughed, and something really clicked into place.

"Can I hold you, Azura?" I asked her.

"Yes, Edgar." She nodded, her cheeks turned pinker than they were before.

Leaning closer, I gently folded her in my arms, feeling a familiar sense of hope I'd been missing for too long. She wound her arms around my waist, her head nestling on my chest and a powerful sensation surged through me. The sensation of being whole again.

Thank you Sarah!