Café

The third day brought no rain. The sky was clear, a clean blue that made the city buildings shine. And yet, Owen felt the same pull to return to the café, as if an invisible thread was drawing him back.

This time, he entered with less hesitation. The bell above the door chimed in a familiar way, and the aroma of freshly ground coffee wrapped around him like he was coming back to a place he already belonged.

But the corner table was empty.

Owen stopped, surprised. He had expected to find Lila there, leaning over her notebook, wearing that calm and focused expression that seemed to shut out the world. Instead, silence greeted him.

He ordered a coffee and sat at another table by the window. Time passed slowly, too slowly. Every time the bell rang, he lifted his gaze with hope, expecting to see her walk in. But it was always someone else: a hurried couple, a businessman with his laptop, a woman carrying a bouquet of flowers.

Half an hour later, Owen started to wonder if it had all been a coincidence. What if she never came back?

Then he heard a voice behind him.

“You’re sitting in my spot today.”

Owen turned so fast he almost spilled his coffee. Lila was there, wearing a dark blue jacket and with her hair tied up in a loose bun. Her lips curled into a half-smile, amused.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” he admitted, not bothering to hide the relief in his voice.

“I thought the same about you,” she replied, walking toward the corner table. She set her notebook down on the wooden surface and looked at him with that calm, unreadable gaze. “Coming?”

He stood up right away and followed her, as if he had no choice.

The café was a little busier than the days before, forcing them to speak in lower voices. Owen noticed that despite the noise, Lila seemed immune to it; when she focused on her drawing, nothing else reached her.

“What do you do when you’re not here?” Owen asked, suddenly aware that he barely knew anything about her.

“I study,” she answered, not lifting her eyes. “Work on projects, get lost in books, watch people… normal things.”

“And friends?”

Lila paused for the briefest moment before replying. “Some. But not many.”

There was something in her tone that made Owen drop the subject. A faint distance lingered in her words, as if part of her always belonged somewhere else.

He tried a different question. “And family?”

This time, the silence was heavier. Lila raised her eyes, and her gray gaze shone with sudden intensity. “Let’s not talk about that.”

Owen opened his mouth to apologize, but she had already turned back to her notebook. The moment closed, like a door silently shutting.

Still, curiosity lingered. There was something about Lila—a shadow behind her calm smile, a carefully kept secret. And Owen knew that sooner or later, he would uncover it.

When they left the café together, the afternoon sky had turned golden. Lila walked beside him in silence, her steps steady. Before parting ways, she looked at him directly, her gaze as firm as ever.

“I’ll be here again tomorrow,” she said simply.

“Then so will I,” he replied without hesitation.

And as he watched her disappear into the crowd, Owen realized that what had started as a coincidence in the rain was no longer chance. Something deeper was binding them, something that was only just beginning to take shape.

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