It was supposed to be an ordinary day. Another shared breakfast at the shelter, another art session with the kids, another evening of journaling thoughts Maya didn't yet know how to speak aloud.
But fate had other plans.
Faith had asked her to pick up donated clothes from the local community center. Maya, craving fresh air and solitude, agreed. It wasn't far—a fifteen-minute walk down sun-dappled sidewalks and streets bustling with life.
She never expected to see him again.
He stood across the street, partially obscured by the shadow of an old bookshop awning. Dressed in a dark coat, with hands buried in his pockets and head slightly bowed—yet his eyes… they were unmistakable. Intense. Smoldering. Watchful.
Their gazes locked, and the world seemed to pause.
Maya's breath caught.
So did his.
Neither moved.
A second passed.
Then another.
And then—a slow, almost hesitant step forward. Maya felt her legs rooted to the pavement, heart hammering loud enough she was sure he could hear it.
He didn't smile.
But his eyes held something far more powerful.
Recognition.
Regret.
Longing.
Just as he was about to cross the street toward her, a loud honk snapped them both back to reality. A truck barreled between them, breaking the line of sight.
When it passed—he was gone.
Vanished.
Maya rushed to the spot, scanning every corner, every alley. But there was nothing. Just the fading imprint of his presence and the lingering taste of what could've been a moment.
She clutched the poetry book closer to her chest, its worn cover warm against her palm.
The man with the haunting eyes was real.
And now… he knew she had seen him too.
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