Connections

Hey everyone l am back with another episode...so yeah l really hope so that u guys r liking the story...because its my first time writing so forgive me for any mistake and tell me where to correct my self l will surely try to improve myself and thanks for supporting me love you guys so so so much ✨️🌷

So let's start the story now....

The next week blurred into a series of restless nights. Mira kept returning to Café Serenade, though every step through the door felt like walking into a story she hadn’t chosen to write.

The man in the black coat was always there. Sometimes he left before her, sometimes after. And every time, she wondered if the cryptic notes came from him—or if someone else lurked in the café’s shadows.

Finally, one night, she decided to break the silence.

She walked past his table on her way out, paused, and forced the words out. “Why do you always sit here?”

He raised his eyes slowly, as if measuring whether to answer. “Habit.”

“That’s not really an answer.”

His lips curved, the faintest ghost of a smile. “Then maybe I’ll give you a better one next time.”

And he did.

The following night, when Mira arrived, she found him already seated with two mugs of coffee on his table. One black, one with cream.

She froze.

He gestured to the chair opposite him. “I figured you might finally want to talk.”

Against her better judgment, Mira sat.

“Adrian,” he introduced himself. His hand was warm when it touched hers briefly.

“Mira,” she replied, her voice quieter than she intended.

“Writing?” he asked, nodding at her notebook.

“Trying,” she admitted. “Mostly stories no one will read.”

His gaze lingered on her, thoughtful. “Maybe they’re not meant to be stories.”

Her stomach twisted. Not everything you write is fiction. The note’s words echoed again.

“Why do you come here?” she asked quickly, trying to shift the subject.

Adrian’s expression darkened, his smile fading. “Because sleep isn’t an option.”

Mira tilted her head. “Bad dreams?”

“Memories.” He hesitated, then added, “I was a detective. Once. Until I made a mistake that cost someone their life.”

Mira’s breath caught. There was weight in his voice, heavy with guilt. For a moment, she almost reached out—but stopped herself.

And then, as though sensing her hesitation, Adrian leaned closer. His voice was softer, almost confessional.

“The thing about mistakes is… they don’t stay buried. They follow you.”

Their eyes met, and something shifted. An unspoken connection, fragile yet undeniable.

For the first time, Mira didn’t feel like just another insomniac scribbling words. She felt seen.

And yet, when she opened her notebook later that night, another slip of paper awaited her.

This one read:

He’s lying to you.

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this hit her whole world she didn’t knew what was happening...and was completly lost in her own fantasy...her own world....

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