I told myself the feeling would fade once I left the café.
It didn't.
Daniel stayed with me the entire walk home—his voice, his eyes, the way he'd looked at me like he was trying to remember something he'd lost. I replayed the moment over and over, searching for logic where there was none.
Strangers didn't linger like this.
My phone buzzed as I was unlocking my door.
An unknown number.
I stared at the screen, my pulse quickening before my mind could catch up.
Daniel:
I hope this isn't strange. You left before I could ask… would you like to see me again?
I leaned against the door, rereading the message.
Part of me smiled.
Another part hesitated.
I typed a reply… deleted it. Typed again.
Me: I don't usually give my number to people I've just met.
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Then:
Daniel:
Neither do I. I just didn't want today to end without trying.
My breath caught.
There it was again—that quiet intensity. No pressure. No games. Just honesty that felt dangerous in its simplicity.
After a moment, I replied.
Me:
Coffee was nice. A walk might be okay.
His response came almost immediately.
Daniel:
Tomorrow evening? By the river.
I agreed before I could overthink it.
That night, sleep came slowly. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him—standing too close, looking at me like there was more he wanted to say but didn't dare.
I wondered what he wasn't telling me.
And why I had the unsettling feeling that when he finally did, it would change everything.
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