My heart beat in a slow, dangerous rhythm.
He wasn't stalking me randomly.
He had a reason.
And whatever that reason was…
I was already too involved to walk away.
I should have gone back inside the office.
I should have pretended I didn't see him.
Instead, my legs moved before my fear could argue.
One step off the curb.
Then another.
Cars passed between us like interruptions that didn't matter. Horns. Heat. Noise.
He didn't move.
Didn't look surprised.
Didn't look pleased.
He looked… certain.
As if this moment had already happenedin his head a hundred times.
I stopped a few feet away from him. Close enough to see the tiny scar near his eyebrow. Close enough to notice his eyes weren't curious.
They were familiar.
Like he was looking at someone he already knew.
My throat felt dry. "Do I know you?"
His gaze dropped briefly to my hands again. Then back to my face.
"Yes," he said calmly.
I blinked. "From where?"
A pause.
Not because he didn't know the answer.
But because he was choosing how much to tell me.
"You don't remember yet."
A chill slid down my spine. "Remember what?"
He tilted his head slightly, studying me like a puzzle that had finally started solving itself.
"Tuesday," he said. "9:17 p.m. Corner table. You always sit facing the door even when the rest of the café is empty."
My stomach tightened.
"That's not normal to notice," I whispered.
His lips almost curved. Not a smile. Something quieter. Darker.
"I notice everything about you."
Something in my chest fluttered between fear and something I didn't want to name.
"How long have you been watching me?" I asked.
He didn't hesitate.
"Longer than you think."
The world around us felt distant. Muffled. Like we were standing in a different version of reality where only the two of us existed.
I should have felt scared.
I did.
But beneath the fear was something worse.
Recognition.
As if my body knew him… before my mind did.
He took one small step back, creating space between us.
"I'll see you tonight," he said.
I frowned. "I'm not going to the café tonight."
For the first time, he smiled.
Soft. Knowing."Yes, you are."
And then he walked away.
Not fast. Not slow. Just confident.
Like a man who had already read the ending of the story I was still living.
I stood there long after he disappeared into the crowd…
…trying to figure out why a part of me already knew he was right.