Encounter Fifty-One happened on a Thursday, which felt important only because Elias had started attaching weight to things that didn't ask for it.
He was sitting on a low concrete wall outside a small bakery that smelled like butter and sugar, watching crumbs gather in the cracks of the pavement. The morning had the soft, unconvincing brightness of a day pretending to be kind.
He was counting breaths when he noticed her reflection in the window.
Not her directly. Just the outline first. Movement before meaning.
She stopped a few steps away, shifting the strap of her bag on her shoulder. This close, Elias could see the faint crease at the corner of her mouth, the one that deepened when she smiled and stayed even when she didn't.
She glanced at the display, hesitated, then stepped inside.
Without thinking, Elias followed.
The bell above the door chimed, bright and incongruous. She turned at the sound, their eyes meeting fully this time. Not a brush. Not a blur.
A moment.
Something flickered across her face. Recognition, maybe. Or just the awareness of being looked at.
"Sorry," Elias said automatically, because the word lived close to his tongue these days. "Didn't mean to startle you."
"It's okay," she said, and her voice surprised him. Lower than he'd imagined. Warmer. "I just didn't hear you come in."
There was space now. Real space. The kind that demanded something to fill it.
"What are you getting?" she asked, gesturing toward the counter.
Elias froze.
This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. This wasn't one hundred.
"I'm… not sure," he said. "I don't usually come in."
She smiled, faintly. "That's a shame. Their almond croissants are good."
He nodded, committing the information to memory like it mattered more than it should.
"Thanks," he said. "I'll remember that."
She turned back to the display, and Elias felt the moment closing, slipping. Panic flared, sudden and sharp.
"Do you come here often?" he blurted.
She glanced back, amused. "Sometimes. When I get off the night shift."
Night shift.
Hospital.
Everything aligned too neatly.
"That sounds exhausting," he said.
"It can be," she agreed. "But it's worth it."
"For the croissants?" he asked, attempting humor.
"For the people," she said simply.
The cashier cleared their throat.
She stepped forward to order, the conversation ending as gently as it had begun. Elias ordered the almond croissant, hands shaking as he passed over the cash.
She waited near the door while he collected his pastry.
"Have a good day," she said, holding the door open for him.
"You too," Elias replied.
They stepped out into the morning together, then diverged naturally, without ceremony.
Encounter Fifty-One.
But it didn't feel like an almost.
It felt like a warning.
Jonah was unimpressed.
"You talked to her," he said flatly, leaning against the kitchen counter. "That's talking."
"It wasn't talking," Elias said. "It was… functional."
"You discussed baked goods," Jonah shot back. "That's foreplay in some cultures."
Amir snorted into his tea.
Elias rubbed his temples. "It wasn't supposed to happen yet."
Jonah frowned. "You realize how ridiculous that sounds."
"I know," Elias said. "But it mattered."
Amir watched him quietly. "Did it feel different?"
Elias hesitated. "Yes."
"How?" Jonah pressed.
"Like if I kept going, something would change," Elias said. "And I don't know if I'm ready for that."
Jonah crossed his arms. "You don't get to schedule connection, Eli."
Elias looked away. "I'm trying to protect something."
"Her?" Amir asked.
"Myself," Elias said honestly.