The days slipped by once more, each one like a page quietly torn from a calendar. And every time Sera was with Liam, everything felt increasingly natural, as though it had always been this way. There was no bond, no declaration to tie them down, yet their steps seemed to follow a path already written long ago. Still, fate no matter how gentle its face might appear never truly made the road easy.
One night, Sera waited for him at the café where they always met. The golden glow of the hanging lights spilled across the wooden tables, wrapping the space in warmth. Her hands cupped the mug of hot chocolate, clinging to the comfort of its fading heat. The clock ticked on. Minutes turned to hours. Liam never came. No word. No message. Only silence settled beside her, so thick she could hear the tick of the wall clock clearer than the faint music drifting through the café speakers.
"Ah… what was I expecting, really?" she whispered to herself with a wry smile." We're just two strangers, thrown together by a strange thread of fate"
When the last of her chocolate was gone, she rose slowly. The chair scraped softly against the floor as she left her corner behind. Stepping outside, she walked down the familiar alley, but that night it felt different. Emptier, colder, as if the silence clung to her skin all the way home.
The next morning, Sera slipped back into her routine. At the bakery where she worked, she busied herself more than usual, filling her day with chatter and laughter alongside her colleagues, as if to drown out the hollowness that still lingered.
"Sera, you've been glowing lately. Don't tell me that you've fallen in love?" Maurel teased, her grin playful as her eyes studied the faint blush rising on Sera's cheeks.
Heat crept up Sera's face, spreading all the way to her ears. "No… maybe it's just the new cream I bought. From the shop down the street," she lied quickly, hiding behind a flimsy excuse.
Maurel chuckled, clearly unconvinced. Before Sera could deflect further, the doorbell chimed.
Their heads turned at once, and Maurel's knowing smile widened as she caught the subtle shift in Sera's expression. "I don't think it's the cream," she murmured, nudging Sera's shoulder.
There he was. Liam.
He rushed inside, breathless, his face etched with guilt. Sera froze for a beat before offering him a faint smile, one that disguised more doubt than relief.
They settled into an empty table, fortunate that the bakery was quiet that day.
"I'm sorry," Liam said, guilt weighing down his words. "Something happened… I really couldn't come last night. And I forgot to tell you."
Sera nodded slowly. The words sounded sincere, yet shadows stirred within her. An old fear of loss, as if a thread stretched thin between them, ready to snap at the slightest pull. A whisper haunted her heart: Why does this memory keep chasing me? Why is Liam's face always there with me?
Liam reached for her hand gently, as though to soothe the doubts she didn't voice. His touch was warm, real, but behind it, Sera felt something strange—a pull she couldn't explain, as though a great secret hovered between them, always keeping its distance.
She looked up briefly. A small smile touched her lips, but her eyes carried a story she dared not speak. Quickly, she lowered her gaze, afraid that flicker might be seen.
"Are you okay?" Liam's voice was soft, cautious, almost fragile.
"I'm fine," Sera replied quickly, too quickly. Her voice tried to sound normal, but a faint tremor betrayed her.
Liam held his breath. He could tell something was wrong, something she was hiding. And yet—ironically—he was too. A weight pressed on his chest, a truth he wasn't ready to bare.
Silence settled between them once again. Only the steady ticking of the bakery's clock filled the air, carving into the stillness.
Their eyes met—just for a fleeting second—but it was enough for both of them to know: they were lying. Not to harm, but to protect something not yet ready to be revealed.
And in the quiet of their intertwined hands, an unspoken promise lingered: Even if these secrets exist, don't let me go. Not yet.
The days that followed fell into the same rhythm. There were moments when they seemed distant, as if fighting against something invisible. And there were nights when Sera dreamed the same dream over and over, waking with tears on her cheeks, unsure of their origin.
Still, feelings could not lie. She knew where her heart longed to return for comfort. For now, their togetherness felt strong, almost unshakable, as though nothing could break the silent bond forming between them.
But fate had its own way of testing love.
That night, as they stepped out of the café, a voice broke through the air, calling his name.
"Liam?"
Both of them turned.
A woman stood there, poised, elegant, her presence commanding. Confidence lingered in her sharp eyes, though they softened slightly when they met Liam's.
Liam's expression faltered. For a brief moment, shock flickered across his face. "Clara…" he breathed, her name escaping him like a memory too heavy to hold back.
The woman smiled faintly—not warmly, not coldly, but with something unreadable hidden beneath. "It's been a long time. How have you been?"
Silence stretched between them. Clara's gaze shifted, moving from Liam to Sera, though it lingered far longer on the girl at his side. And in that instant, Sera felt something cold seep into her chest. She didn't know why, but the presence of this stranger unsettled her deeply, as though everything she knew was about to shift.
"You never mentioned you'd come back to the city," Clara said, tilting her head slightly.
Liam cleared his throat, his fingers tightening around the strap of his bag. "I… didn't expect to run into anyone."
Sera stood beside him in silence, her heart tightening painfully. The way Liam had said her name, the way Clara looked at him it all felt like a reminder that there was a story before her.
This is the life he had before me, she thought bitterly. "Perhaps… this is the life he truly belongs to."