I stared at the paper long after she had disappeared into the rain.
The café door closed behind her, but her presence stayed—like a melody that refuses to fade. Her name was written in neat handwriting. Simple. Beautiful. Just like her.
I folded the paper carefully and slipped it into my pocket, as if it were something fragile… something alive.
For a moment, I wondered if I should follow her.
But something told me this story wasn't meant to be rushed.
That night, I couldn't sleep.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her smile—the quiet confidence in it, the mystery. My phone lay beside me, untouched, yet heavier than ever.
What if I texted and she didn't reply?
What if she replied… and everything changed?
At 12:07 a.m., I finally gave in.
Me:
Do coincidences still matter after midnight?
Three dots appeared almost instantly.
My heart stopped.
Then her reply came.
Her:
Only if you believe in them.
I smiled without realizing it.
We talked for hours—about nothing and everything. Rain, coffee, missed chances, and dreams we hadn't shared with anyone else. She had a way of making words feel honest, effortless.
At 2:43 a.m., she sent one last message.
Her:
Maybe we met today for a reason.
I stared at the screen, knowing the truth even before typing back.
Some people enter your life quietly…
and still, they leave a mark that never fades.
I didn't know her story yet.
I didn't know the secrets she carried.
But I knew one thing with terrifying certainty—
This was not a coincidence.
This was the beginning of something that could either heal me…
or break me completely.
