Professor Miller had lost track of the days without Sofia when he suddenly received her message. He grabbed his phone, nearly dropping it, and hurriedly opened the messenger. The message was brief: "Luna Café, today, 6:00 PM. Please come." He read it over and over. Two weeks of silence, two weeks of him losing his mind, and now she was back—just as abruptly as she had vanished.
He arrived at the café early, claiming a table by the window where the soft glow of streetlights mingled with the warmth of the wooden interior. He didn't know what to expect. Anger? Accusations? What if Sofia had decided to say goodbye, to abandon the university? Or perhaps she would plead for his love? Memories of that evening in his office swirled in his mind, and every thirty seconds he checked his watch or glanced at his phone.
The café door creaked, and Sofia walked in. Her hair was woven into a braid, and she wore wide jeans, a light blue long-sleeve top, and her usual sneakers. She spotted him immediately but slowed her steps, as if hesitant to approach.
David stood, his throat tightening, unsure of what to say.
"Sofia," he said softly, her name one he'd been turning over in his mind for two weeks straight. "Where have you been?"
He realized he'd said the wrong thing. He needed to say something important. Quickly, he corrected himself.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say we should stop. No, that's not what I want at all. I looked for you, called you, wrote to you, waited."
"Thank you for looking," she said. "That means a lot to me. I… I needed time. I'm sorry I disappeared." Her voice trembled with sincerity. "I didn't know how to handle… what's happening between us."
Miller gazed at her, seeing his own fear and confusion mirrored in her eyes.
"What do you feel?" he asked.
Sofia looked up, and in her eyes flickered the same spark as that evening.
"I'm scared," she whispered. "Scared of how much I want you. Scared of how it's changing me. I couldn't come back because… because it's too much. But I can't stop thinking about you."
Her words hung in the air, and Miller felt the last of his defenses crumble. He stepped toward her, forgetting the people around them, the coffee cooling on the table, everything that wasn't her. His hand brushed her cheek, and she didn't pull away—instead, she leaned into his palm, closing her eyes.
"I can't stop thinking about you either," he confessed. "These two weeks… I've been going mad."
She stepped closer, her hands resting on his chest.
"I don't know what we're doing," she whispered, "but I don't want to run anymore."
He embraced her, gently at first, then tightly. The café, the people, time itself—all faded away, leaving only her, just as she was in his dreams, though her perfume was different today.
Sofia smiled, for the first time without a trace of defiance, only tenderness.
"We'll figure it out, won't we?" she asked softly.
Miller nodded, still holding her hand.
"Yes. Together."