By evening, the whole town seemed to breathe with one rhythm. The riverbank glowed as if stars had come down to earth. Lanterns hung across bamboo poles, krathongs lined neatly on woven mats, their candles trembling in the humid air. The smell of grilled fish and jasmine incense hung heavy, mingling with the sweetness of fried bananas.
Granny walked beside me, her hands folded around her own krathong, flowers resting between banana leaves. Sorren tugged at his rope, eager, tail wagging as if he felt the strange electricity in the air.
"Careful, Kael," Granny said with a laugh as I adjusted my own krathong. "Hold it steady. Tonight, the river listens to everything."
We joined the others at the water's edge. The monks' chants had already begun, low and resonant:
"Namo tassa bhagavato arahato Sammā sambuddhassa..."
The words seemed to sink into the current, riding the water's dark skin. People knelt, bowed, whispered their forgiveness, their gratitude, their wishes.
When it was my turn, I lit the incense and candle, their flames shivering in the breeze. I pressed my palms together and closed my eyes.
"Forgive me, river. Carry away my fears. Bring me towards what waits."
My chest ached as I whispered it, as though my longing itself was the offering. I set the krathong gently on the water. It wobbled, caught the current, then drifted away—its little flame swaying, joining the hundreds already floating downstream.
And then I saw him.
Across the river.
The crowd parted just enough, and there—beneath the stretch of lanterns, against the silver sweep of moonlight—stood the man from my dreams.
No blur this time, no half-formed shadow. His face was clear, real. His eyes lifted towards the water, the light gliding across his cheekbones, the breeze tugging at his dark hair.
My body went still. The world hushed, though I knew the drums were still beating, the children still laughing, Granny still calling softly for Sorren. None of it reached me. Only him.
As if sensing something, he turned. His gaze met mine across the river. My heart slammed once, hard, like it was trying to leap free from my chest.
The candlelight trembled on the water between us, carrying my wish away, but for the first time, I wasn't sure if I had to wait for the river to answer.
Because he was there. Watching me.
And I knew—somehow, impossibly—that he had been waiting too.